The story of his fifteen years of religious life is beautifully told by his biographer. Only under the restrain& of a religious role did his gifts and virtues receive their right development. It was like a second youth, a second training for life; undue impetuosity was restrained, zeal, generosity, charity, tenderness, all found an object and a wise direction. Surely never was sanctity made more attractive than in the person of the noble and gentle F. Ignatius. Great was the rejoicing among postulants and novices when his arrival was announced at any one of the passionist houses. Anecdote, mirth, kind and sympathizing intercourse were in store for the recreation wherever he appeared, clad in his coarse attire, with a brace of rough drogget bags slung over his broad shoulders. The journey had been made, they might be sure, in the third-class cars, "because there was no fourth class." The spirit of holy poverty had grown to be a sort of passion with him, only to be surpassed by his zeal for the salvation of souls. He treated himself, and wished others to treat him, like a beggar; thankful for any favor, but cheerfully submissive to refusal. When he had a long journey before him, if anyone offered him a "lift" in a cart or wagon, he gladly accepted it; if not, he was quite contented. He seldom refused a meal when travelling, and would ask for something to eat at any house upon the road, if necessary. At home he generally washed and mended his own clothes, and when he was superior would allow no one to perform menial offices for him. In dress he dreaded overnicety, and would as gladly wear a cast-off tartan as anything else, if it did not tend to throw discredit upon his order. For several years he wore an old mantle belonging to a religious who had died, and only left it off at the desire of the provincial. This was by no means his natural bent. Those who knew him as a young man say that he would hunt through the hosiers' shops in a dozen streets in London to find articles that could satisfy his fastidious taste. But, to return to the pleasure which his presence in a community always gave:
"His visits at home were like meteor flashes, bright and beautiful, and always made us regret that 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 among 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 at 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 commonplace 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 for recreation, and gave their opinions on F. Ignatius, whom many had spoken to for the first time in their life, nearly all would conclude, 'If ever there was a saint, he's one.'
"It was amusing to observe how they prepared themselves for forming their opinion. They all heard of his being a great saint, and some fancied he would eat nothing at all for one day, and might attempt a little vegetables on the next. One novice, in particular, had made up his mind to this, and to his great surprise he saw Father Ignatius eat an extra good breakfast; and when about to settle into a rash judgment, he saw the old man preparing to walk seven miles to a railway station on the strength of his meal. Another novice thought such a saint would never laugh or make anyone else laugh; to his agreeable disappointment, he found that Father Ignatius brought more cheerfulness into the recreation than had been there for some time. We gathered around him, by a kind of instinct, and so entertaining was he that one felt it a mortification to be called away from the recreation room while Father Ignatius was in it. He used to recount with peculiar grace and fascinating wit scenes he went through in his life. There is scarcely an anecdote in this book we have not heard him relate. He was most ingenuous. Ask him what question you pleased, he would answer it if he knew it. In relating an anecdote he often spoke in five or six different tones of voices; he imitated the manner and action of those he knew to such perfection that laughter had to pass into admiration. He seldom laughed outright, and even if he did he would very soon stop. If he came across a number of Punch, he ran over some of the sketches at once and then he would be observed to stop, laugh, and lay it down at once as if to deny himself further enjoyment. It is needless to say there was nothing rollicking or off-handed in his wit—never; it was subdued, sweet, delicate, and lively. ... In fact, a recreation presided over by Father Ignatius was the most innocent and gladsome one could imagine.
"In one thing Father Ignatius did not go against anticipation, he was most exact in the observance of our rules. He would always be the first in for midnight office. Many a time the younger portion of the community used to make arrangements over night to be in before him, but it was no use. Once, indeed, a student arrived in choir before him, and Father Ignatius appeared so crestfallen at being beaten that the student would never be in before him again, and would delay on the way if he thought Father Ignatius had not yet passed. He seemed particularly happy when he could light the lamps or gas for matins. He was child-like in his obedience. He would not transgress the most trifling regulation. It was usual with him to say, 'I cannot understand those persons who say, Oh! I am all right if I get to purgatory. We should be more generous with Almighty God. I don't intend to go to purgatory, and if I do I must know what for.' 'But, Father Ignatius,' a father would say, 'we fall into so many imperfections that it seems presumptuous to attempt to escape scot free.' 'Well,' he would reply, 'nothing can send us to purgatory but a wilful, venial sin, and may the Lord preserve us from such a thing as that; a religious ought to die before being guilty of the least wilful fault.'"
In the year 1850, Father Ignatius made the resolution of never being idle a moment, and carried it out to the end of his life. Bergamo's Pensieri ed Affetti he translated in railway stations while waiting for trains, before and after dinner, and in intervals between confessions. Of letter-writing he made a kind of duty, and on one occasion he wrote seventy-eight in the course of two free days. Not mere notes, either, were his letters, but epistles full of thought and sympathy for his correspondent.
"His days were indeed full days, and he scarcely ever went to bed until he had shaken himself out of nodding asleep over his table three or four times. No one ever heard him say that he was tired and required rest; rest he never had, except on his hard bed or in his quiet grave. If any man ever ate his bread in the sweat of his brow, it was Father Ignatius of St. Paul, the ever-toiling passionist."
Illness, unless it kept him in his bed, never interfered with the performance of his duties. When superior, he used his power to secure the hardest work for himself. During the time of his rectorship in Sutton, he would preach and sing mass after hearing confessions all the morning; attend sick calls, preach in the evening at some distant parish, come home perhaps at eleven o'clock, say his office, and be the first to come to matins at two o'clock. The Father Provincial found him so ingenious in eluding privileges that he placed him under obedience in matters of health to one of the priests of his community, whom he strictly obeyed ever after.
Once a cramp or some accident had made him fall into a ditch where he got drenched and covered with mud. On returning from the sick call which he was attending, he found a friend at the house, who sympathized with his especial interests. Down he sat for a good talk upon the conversion of England, and at the end of two hours was frightened off by one of the religious to change his clothes.