bat hanc crv
cem, 1522
—Ignatius de Loyola bore this cross, 1522.
We found Manresa exceedingly picturesque by daylight, rising abruptly, as it does, out of the valley of the Llobregat on one side and that of the Cardoner on the other. The railway station is at the foot of the eminence, with the river between, and the effect of the steep cliffs, crowned by the noble and loyal city, is very striking. Directly opposite, as if it sprang out of the mount, rises the Seo, a venerable cathedral of the fourteenth century, beautifully mellowed and embrowned by time. Further to the left are the spires of the Carmen and the tower of San Miguel; while at the right, but lower down, built into the very side of the cliff, so that it seems like a continuation of it, is the church of the Jesuits, with the Santa Cueva which gives celebrity to the city. One would like to see the Holy Cave in its primitive simplicity; but such was the devotion of pilgrims who came here in thousands after the canonization of St. Ignatius that, to save it from being carried off piecemeal, it was found necessary to place some safeguard around it, and it is now enclosed within the walls of the church.
Crossing the bridge that leads from the station, and walking along the opposite bank beneath the long arms of the umbrageous plane-trees for five minutes, we turned to the left, and, going up a short street, found ourselves directly beneath the overhanging cliff, which is tapestried with vines and the delicate fronds of the maiden-hair, kept green and fresh by little cascades of clear water that come trickling down the rocks with a pleasant murmur, glittering like the facets of a thousand jewels in the bright morning sun. Here is the Holy Cave, though no longer open on the side of the valley, towards which turn with interest so many hearts from the ends of the earth. We passed beneath the church walls, with its long line of sculptured saints, of rather coarse workmanship in the Renaissance style, but producing a striking effect from the valley below. One more turn to the left up a steep path, and we were on the terrace leading to the entrance. A statue of St. Ignatius is over the door. One always recognizes his striking physiognomy, with the noble dome of solemn thought that crowns it, and we saluted it with reverence and love, as we had done in many a strange land, as a symbol of the paternal kindness we had met with from the order to which he has bequeathed his spirit.
The church consists of a single aisle, with four small chapels on each side, and a latticed gallery above for the inmates of the residence. There is nothing remarkable about it, and, in fact, it was never completed according to the original plan, owing to the suppression of the order in Spain. Seeing an open door on the gospel side of the sanctuary, we went directly towards it and found ourselves in a long, narrow passage lined with portraits of the Jesuit saints, and, at the further end, a doorway secured by a strong iron grating, above which is graven:
SANTA CUEVA.
Finding the grating ajar, we pushed it back, and, descending three stone steps, found ourselves in the Holy Cave. It is long and narrow, being about thirty feet in length, seven in width, and about the same in height. A small octagon window is cut through the wall that closes the original entrance, and there is a feeble lamp hanging before the altar, but neither gives light enough to disperse the gloom, and, as there was no one in the cave, it was as silent and impressive as a tomb. You could only hear the pleasant rippling of the water over the rocks without. The pavement is the solid rock, and the upper part of the cave is in its rough state, but the lower part of the walls is faced with marble, and jasper, and a series of bas-reliefs that tell the history of the saint. An inscription on the wall says:
“In this place, in the year 1522, St. Ignatius composed the book of Exercises, the first written in the Society of Jesus, which has been approved by a bull from his Holiness Paul III.”
At the right, as you enter, is a projection, or shelf, in the wall, on which the Spiritual Exercises were written, and there is a cross hollowed in the rock where the saint used to trace the holy sign before beginning to write. One’s first impulse is to kiss the ground where his holy feet once stood, and pray where he so often prayed. St. Ignatius said he learned more in one short hour of prayer in the cave of Manresa than all the doctors in the world could have taught him. Here, like St. Jerome, trembling before the judgments of God, he used to smite his breast with a hard stone. Here he wept over the sufferings of Christ, with whose bodily Presence he was often favored, as well as the presence of the angels and their Queen. “Flow fast, my tears,” wrote he in this very place, “break forth, my heart, in bitter sighs, that I may weep worthily over the sorrows of my Saviour! O Jesus! may I die before I cease to have a horror of sin. God liveth, in whose sight I stand; for while there is breath in me, and the spirit of life in my nostrils, my lips shall not give utterance nor my heart consent to iniquity.”[[200]]