Once he was fiercely abused, when begging, and as the reviler had come to a full stop in his froward speech, Father Ignatius quietly retorted: "Well, as you have been so generous to myself personally, perhaps you would be so kind as to give me something now for my community." This had a remarkable effect. It procured him a handsome offering then, as well as many others ever since.
Another day he knocked at a door, and was admitted by a very sumptuously attired footman. Father Ignatius told the servant the object of his visit, his religious name, and asked if he could see the lady or gentleman of the house. The servant strode off to see, and in a few seconds returned to say that the gentleman was out, and the lady was engaged and could not see him, neither could she afford to help him. He then remarked that perhaps she was not aware that he was the Honourable Mr. Spencer. The servant looked at him, bowed politely and retired. In a minute or two Father Ignatius hears a rustling of silks and a tripping of quick steps on the stairs. In came my lady, and what with blushings and bowings, and excuses and apologies, she scarcely knew where she was until she found herself and him tête-à-tête. She really did not know it was he, and there were so many impostors. "But what will you take, my dear sir?" and before he could say yea or nay she rung for his friend the footman. Father Ignatius coolly said, that he did not then stand in need of anything to eat, and that he never took wine; but that he did stand in need of money for a good purpose, and if she could give him anything in that way he should be very glad to accept it. She handed him a five-pound note at once, expressing many regrets that something or other prevented its being more. Father Ignatius took the note, folded it carefully, made sure of its being safely lodged in his pocket, and then made thanksgiving in something like the following words: "Now, I am very sorry to have to tell you that the alms you have given me will do you very little good. If I had not been born of a noble family, you would have turned me away with coldness and contempt. I take the money, because it will be as useful to me as if it were given with a good motive; but I would advise you, for the future, if you have any regard for your soul, to let the love of God, and not human respect, prompt your alms-giving." So saying, he took his hat and bid his benefactress a good morning.
Many were the anecdotes he told us about his begging adventures; but it is next to impossible to remember them. In every case, however, we could see the saint through the veil his humility tried to cast over himself. Whether he was received well or ill, he always tried to turn his reception to the spiritual benefit of those who received him. He made more friends than any person living, perhaps, and never was known to make an enemy; his very simplicity and holiness disarmed malice. He says, in a letter, upon getting his first commission to go and quest: "I am to be a great beggar!" His prognostication began to be verified. Strange fact, the Honourable George Spencer a beggar! And happier, under all the trials and crosses incident to such a life, than if he had lived in the luxury of Althorp. Religion is carrying out to-day what its Founder began eighteen hundred years ago. He left the kingdom of heaven to live on the charity of His own creatures.
CHAPTER IV.
Death Of Father Dominic.
We group the incidents of this chapter around this sad event: some of them were the last these two bosom friends did together, and the others were occasioned by their separation.
Early in January, 1849, Father Ignatius went, at the invitation of Mr. John Smith, of Button, to see a spot of ground upon which that worthy man intended building a church and house for a community of Passionists. Father Ignatius did not like the situation; but as soon as he spoke to Father Dominic about it, they both came to St. Helen's Junction to see if two heads might not be wiser than one. Father Dominic landed on the platform a little before Father Ignatius, who had been delayed somewhere on the way. He went immediately to look for the great benefactor. A fine-looking, open, plain man saluted him, and he thought this must be a Catholic, and likely he knows the person I am looking for. "Do you know where lives a certain Mr. Smith?" asked Father Dominic. "I should think I did," answered his new friend, and after a few minutes' conversation the father was satisfied, for he was no other than Mr. Smith himself. They both walked over a considerable extent of ground, within which Mr. Smith told the good father to make his choice of a site. He had selected that whereon St. Anne's Retreat now stands, when Father Ignatius arrived. Father Ignatius hesitated a little before giving his consent, and it was only when Father Dominic said emphatically, "The house that is to be built here will yet be the largest and best we shall have in England," that he fully agreed. That prophecy is noted in a journal Father Ignatius kept at the time, and he wondered afterwards how the church and monastery that arose on that dreary spot verified it to the letter. It is the best and largest we have in England at the present moment, and Father Dominic never saw a stone of its foundations laid.
Fathers Dominic, Ignatius, and Vincent, give a mission in Romney Terrace, Westminster, in March. Shortly after they give another in High Street, Dublin. At this mission they introduced the Italian ceremonies, such as peacemakers (persons appointed to reconcile those at variance), special sermons for different classes of people, bell for the five paters, and public asking of pardon by the missionaries. It fell to Father Ignatius to be spokesman in this latter ceremony, and sore straitened was he to find out in what particular the fathers had offended, that he might therefrom draw the apology for their act. He searched and searched, and at last remembered his own proneness to nod asleep when too long in the confessional. This was the plea he made, and we must say it was a very poor one: it gives, however, a good idea of his candour, and want of unreality. These demonstrations were found to be unsuited to the genius of the people, and have been suffered to fall into desuetude ever since.
Father Ignatius goes next on a begging tour through Manchester, Sheffield, and the north of England. He called at Carstairs House, on his way to Glasgow and Edinburgh, to visit his friend Mr. Monteith. Mr. Monteith was received into the Church by Dr. Wiseman, when Father Ignatius lived in Oscott. Father Ignatius was his god-father. A friendship then began between them which never cooled; they kept up a correspondence from which many important hints have been borrowed for this book, and it was from Mr. Monteith's place the soul of Father Ignatius took its departure for a better world. Mr. Monteith extended the friendship he had for Father Ignatius to his other religious brethren, and time after time has he given them substantial proofs of its depth and generosity.
Father Ignatius and he had been for some time in correspondence about founding a house of Passionists somewhere near Lanark or Carstairs; but circumstances over which they had no control prevented them coming to a conclusion. The Vincentians have well and worthily taken the place, and the first house of our order founded in Scotland was St. Mungo's, Glasgow, a few months after Father Ignatius's death. It was he who opened Mr. Monteith's domestic chapel, and said the first mass in it. And it was in the same chapel the first mass was said for his own soul in presence of the body.