CHAPTER III
TO still-mediasval Paris, Ignatius went — mediaeval in structure and outward character, though intellectually and spiritually in process of transition. A city most fair and (like all mediaeval cities) most foul, its picturesque streets infested with filth and garbage. Most fair, too, was its world-famed university, a veritable town of fifty colleges and schools, almost monopolising the south bank of the Seine. Montmartre, still a holy and secluded hill, overlooked its pleasant meadows. Some sixteen thousand students were gathered in or about its numerous buildings, divided into the four "nations '' of the French, Picards, Normans, and Germans. The French embraced the three Latin nations — France, Spain, Italy — and Greece. Among them, therefore, Ignatius was included.
Always ready to learn from his own errors, Ignatius now resolved to profit by his friends' help and to economise the time heretofore spent in alms-begging. Above all, he would not repeat his mistake of adventuring on too many subjects at once. At Alcala and Salamanca he had mastered nothing properly: with his wonted courageous thoroughness, he determined in Paris to start anew from the very foundations, and began therefore as a student at the College Montaigu, a mere grammar-school scholar, once more among lads. There again was the quality that made Ignatius truly a rock upon which anything might be built — his amazing and unflinching thoroughness. Whatever he undertook he laboured from the roots upwards. But his plan of dispensing with alms was frustrated. A fellow-student to whom he had entrusted his money spent it for his own use. Ignatius had to leave his lodgings for the Hospital of St. James of Compostella, at a distance from the College, and was again reduced to alms.
Finally, by advice, he adopted the plan of begging in some foreign country during the two months* summer vacation, raising thereby enough to keep him as boarder in one of the colleges. For two years he thus spent his summer vacation in Flanders, and the third he spent in our own England.
Having diminished his devotions for the sake of study, in which he was now resolute to succeed, for the first year he refrained from his usual Conferences. But he increased his austerities, being now relieved from the dyspepsia which had beset him since Manresa: every day he heard Mas.s, every day he Strictly examined his conscience, and he confessed and communicated each week. These things do not need repetition or emphasis: in such a man we look for them as a matter of course, as we look for a soldier to perform the rigorous habitual exercises of active campaign. Nor, though the Conferences were resumed only in the second year, was there any slackening in the ardour of his general apostolate. It was, however, limited chiefly to his Spanish countrymen; for, like Sir Andrew, he had not the tongues.
Disciples came, and with the disciples the scandals of Toledo and Salamanca. Three of these followers, after passing through the " Spiritual Exercises," in accordance with Ignatius's usual practice, had sold books and possessions, distributed the proceeds among the poor, and retired to the Hospital of St. James, where Ignatius had resided until his vacation journeys relieved the necessities caused by his fellow-student's old breach of trust. These three were the bachelor De Castro of Toledo, member of the Sorbonne; the student Peralta; and Amador the Biscayan, belonging to the College of Ste. Barbe. Furious were the Parisian Spaniards; furious Gouvea, Rector of Ste. Barbe and Amador's lecturer; furious Dr. Ortiz, Regent at Montaigu, whose pupils were De Castro and Peralta. In all these men was but one mind, and it was against Ignatius. He was denounced to the Inquisition as an heretical teacher and a villainous misleader of youth. A sorcerer, this Ignatius, they declared, who had fled from Paris before the discovery of his hidden iniquities.
For, as it chanced, Ignatius was really absent. The embezzler of his money had fallen sick at Rouen on the way to Spain, and had written for aid to the man he had wronged. Ignatius did not hesitate; he walked barefoot and fasting to Rouen — offering this penance for the youth's conversion. He nursed the dehnquent to recovery, paid his passage and provided for his journey to Spain, and gave him introductory letters to the three disciples left behind at Salamanca. Then, in Rouen streets, a messenger put into his hands a letter from a friend in Paris, telling him what was there going forward. He took the man forthwith to a notary, and had a certificate drawn up and signed by two witnesses that he had started for Paris so soon as he had received the letter. Witnesses, moreover, and notary he got to companion him part of the way. All this was to give evidence that he had not, as was alleged, fled from the charges against him. The Dominican and doctor of theology, Matteo Ori, was Parisian Grand Inquisitor. To him went Ignatius so soon as he had entered Paris streets, the dust of travel not washed from him; gave in his certificate, and submitted himself to inquiry, might it only be immediate, so that he could begin his philosophical course on the proximate feast of St. Remigius. Ori, very unlike the Spanish Inquisitors, said at once that he was satisfied of the Saint's innocence, and authorised him to resume his studies without anxiety as to any proceedings against him. So ended the first attack on Ignatius. The three disciples, meanwhile, were forcibly dragged from the Hospital by their friends, and engaged to postpone their ascetic schemes until they should have finished their course in the schools. It was the end of their career as disciples of Ignatius, though two, at least, are known to have become excellent ecclesiastics in other fashion — one as a Canon of Toledo, one as a Carthusian. It seemed as though the stars in their courses fought against Ignatius's endeavour to gather round him a band of trustworthy followers. Three he had left at Salamanca, and they were not to stand. Three more had now been detached from him by the successful machinations of his enemies — those critics who sprang up in every fresh city where he began his work. He persevered, unmoved; and his reward was not now very far distant. But first he had to confront new attacks, new persecutions.
It was now the October of 1529; Ignatius had successfully completed his elementary studies at Montaigu, and (steadily continuing his resolution to accomplish seriatim the studies he had rashly tried to master in one feverish onset), he began his course of philosophy at the College Ste. Barbe, governed by his late antagonist, the Portuguese^ Gouvea. Both to gain leisure for study, and to evade somewhat of the opposition he had recently encountered, he determined to avoid further proselytism till he had taken his degrees. As with all truly great men, his firmness was far from obstinacy; he was ever ready to confess the lessons of experience, though they thwarted his dearest prepossessions. And for a time all went peacefully, so that one of his friends congratulated him on the change.. " They leave me at rest because I do so little now for my neighbours' salvation," he answered; " wait till I am at work again, and see then what will happen."
His only trouble was the old Barcelona trouble, that spiritual meditation thrust itself upon his studies. He had to warn his room-mate, Peter
Favre, who privately aided and supervised his studies, against the mention of any spiritual subject, lest he should wander from the matter in hand. The sole incident which broke this brief truce was that he had for a while to reside outside Ste. Barbe through attending a case of plague. It is told that after this act of charity a pain in his hand suggested to his quick imagination that he had caught the plague. Revolting against his fear, he thrust the hand into his mouth, with — " If you have the plague in your hand, you shall have it in your mouth also.*'
But he could not withhold from talking to his fellow-students concerning divine things; they began to gather about him, and soon the enmities broke out afresh. Like Newman at Oxford, but in fashion and degree more fervid, he could not prevent this virtue going out of him. The students were accustomed to hold public disputations on Sundays and holidays; and Ignatius's followers neglected these gatherings to pray and communicate in the church. An influx of spirituality was sore needed in the University. The Professors appear to have been lax and unpunctual in their lectures, to have taken small care of academical discipline, and as little heed of moral discipline. Students attended lectures as they pleased, and did very much also as they pleased outside the colleges. But these Sunday disputations were naturally encouraged by the authorities, who were enabled thereby to estimate their scholars' proficiency. It stimulated the young men's zeal for study. Now here came this meddling Spaniard, sapping that zeal which, at best, it was so hard to foster! From the professional standpoint they had a clear case; and Pena, whose lectures were affected by the abstention, was especially violent. The Rector Gouvea, mindful of his old grievance against Ignatius, was easily won to sympatliy with the professorial plaint. There was a law by which any disorderly student could be publicly flogged. Masters and students were convened after dinner in the College hall: the masters stood in double row, armed with rods; and the offender, stripped to the waist, passed between them. Gouvea resolved to flog Ignatius. The Saint's friends told him what was determined against him, and that it would be put in force as soon as he set foot within the College precincts. Mortified as he was at a threat so ignominious, the spirit of the Spanish noble leaped to flame. A moment, and he trampled it under.
" Ass! '' he told himself, " it is vain for thee to kick against the pricks: on, or I will drag thee thither! "
Yet, however ready to accept the shame himself, the effect on his weaker followers was a thing to be thought of. He resolved to interview the Rector. He entered the College Ste. Barbe — close clanged the gates behind him — out rang the bell. The caged rebel quietly asked to see the Rector. He laid his position frankly before Gouvea, his reasons for shrinking from a punishment which, if it had affected only himself, he would not have shunned. It is scarce to be supposed that Gouvea was concerned for the weak knees of the Spaniard's disciples: he would rather have rejoiced to detach them from Ignatius. Call it magnetism, call it the hand of God, or call it comprehensively both: that compulsive power radiating from his speech and eyes and personal presence conquered again, as it had so often conquered before. Gouvea, the embittered Gouvea, wept.
Masters and students were awaiting the expected punishment in the hall. Rector and culprit enter together; and before they can well ask themselves what it may mean, the Rector is kneeling at the delinquent's feet. Before the whole concourse, gathered to witness Ignatius's degradation, Gouvea implored Ignatius's forgiveness, and the forgiveness of God for the offence against His servant. So, gentlemen of Spain and enemies of fanaticism, our plot has exploded against ourselves; and this Guy Fawkes bonfire, which was to consume Ignatius to the last rag of repute, has become a fire of glory, which routs and scatters these enemies of fanaticism as they have never been routed yet, and leaves Ignatius, for the first time in his patient struggle, triumphant.
Of course, before so extraordinary a demonstration of respect from the Rector, the human instinct — call it sycophancy, or what you will — which is not necessarily cast out with the devil by Holy Orders, bowed with supplest back before the successful Spanish innovator, approved of authority. Nor was it all sycophancy: it is astonishing how good, prejudiced men open their eyes to truth when the way is led by one of their own order. Angry Pena lay down with the lamb Ignatius, and became his fast friend. Teachers and taught sought his company: the Professor of Theology, Martial, urged him to take the Doctor's degree in theology without waiting to finish his course in philosophy. Such was the triumph in Paris of the Spaniard whom his country had forbidden to teach, a man unlearned in theology. Ignatius proceeded firmly in his studies. After three years he was much eased by being able to dispense with his summer begging tours. The Flemish merchants who were his chief support arranged to transmit their contributions to him in Paris.
But, before this, he had in the summer of i c^o visited England. An Enghsh biographer can no more pass over this Enghsh visit of Ignatius than an Enghsh biographer can pass over the Enghsh visit of Dante: yet of the Saint, as of the Poet, it can only be told that he did visit England. No detail of either passage through our island is known.
More to the strict purpose is it to record that in March 1533 he took the degree of Licentiate and in March of 1534 the degree of Master in Arts. To this, one should record, he was helped by the unfailing charity and alms of those good adies who were his friends in Barcelona, as we know from a letter, which has been preserved, to Ines Pascual. One knows not whether more to admire his astonishing determination or his astonishing mental power, when it is reflected that he thus carried through his philosophical studies at the age of forty-f.ur, having begun his whole education from the very elements others 73 K acquire in boyhood. We must go back for a parallel to Cassar, beginning his career as a supreme General at fifty: and even that is an instance less difficult and less remarkable of late achievement.
During all this time, v^hen he was thus concentrating himself on his studies in the teeth of the difficulties created by his advanced years, he yet did not remit his w^ork as a fisher of men. Only his conferences and public addresses w^ere for a time abandoned. His method is interesting, not merely in itself, but because wt can discern in it something of the sd-intly ^nesse afterwards employed by his disciple, Xavier. In truth, he adopted the holy wiles inculcated by that supremely successful fisher of men, the great Apostle of the Gentiles. He observed the dispositions of those with whom he had to do, accommodated himself to the prejudices and cherished foibles of his happy victims, ignored their affronts if they were hostile, and in this wise imperceptibly glided into their confidence. He had all Bardolph's belief in that excellent and gentleman-like word, " accommodate. '* Gentle, modest, yet frank — the reverse of the " wily Jesuit '' of fiction, whose ways would set the honest man's teeth on edge — and with the magnetism of an ascendant personality, he gripped his man while the destined convert was conscious only of a charming comradeship. Insensibly the delighted companion found himself on the exalted acclivities of holiness. It is the method of Paul, who made himself all things to all men; it is the method of Francis Xavier, who said: " I let them go in at their door, but I take care they come out at mine." Very plain is it where Xavier learned his divinely unprincipled sleights, his heavenly cunning.
Several stories are told of Ignatius's benevolent stratagems; some full of compelling ardour, some of tender calculation. One has the bold impulsiveness wh'ch seizes accident like a quick general; while it shows his readiness to use a man's private whims. Calling on a French doctor of theology, he found him " rolling billiard balls about," and was invited to play — for what billiard-lover can resist the chance of a partner, however casual? The visitor had never touched a cue, and declined; but no slave to the balls is daunted by a refyisal. The doctor persisted, and Ignatius suddenly agreed. Only, since he was too poor to play for money, he proposed a novel match. If he lost, he would be at the doctor's orders, as his servant, for a month. If he won, the F'renchman should do for him a single thing, to the doctor's own advantage. Amused, perhaps, and doubtless with the gambler's zest in a bizarre stake, the bilhard-player took the challenge. Against a novice, he was secure enough of the issue. But it is no fair game with a crank or a Saint. Ignatius won every point; and the discomfited doctor, loyal to the gambler's honour, asked what he was required to do. He was to go through the " Exercises " for a month. He performed his contract; those gymnastics of the spirit did their due work of development; and the Saint captured another sinner.
Another story recalls the Assisian Saint with his " Bride of Snow "; but it was to combat another's fire of ill, not his own, that our Spanish Saint took on himself the icy penance. A certain man was involved in an intrigue, which exposed him to imminent peril of life from a betrayed husband. The impetuous ardour of nature, which it was not least of Ignatius's victories to have placed under habitual curb, was, in this business, given the rein.
It was winter, and by the bridge over Gentilly lake Ignatius awaited the gallant's passage, plunged, naked, to his neck in the cold black water. There he prayed for the guilty soul, while his man drew near dreaming of unlawful love. He trod the bridge; and a voice from the dark lake below cried suddenly on him, startling the silence. A cutthroat? No; a saving waylayer, and a heavenly ambuscade. It bade him to go on to risk soul and body, while his intercepter remained to do penance for the sins. Each night should find the unknown speaker there, waiting his coming and return, until God put a finish to the life and prayers of the one, or the iniquities of the other. The man was confounded, abashed, seized with remorse; he abandoned at once his profligacy, and was swept into Ignatius's beneficent net.