A. M. D. G. 
 
 The Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 Leo H. Mullany, S. J. 
 
 LOYOLA UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 CHICAGO, ILL. 
 
 1915 
 
Ifmprtmt potest 
 
 A. J. Burrowes, S.J. 
 
 Provincialis 
 
 IFUbil ©bstat 
 
 John B. Furay, S. J. 
 
 Censor Deputatus 
 
 Imprimatur 
 
 M. J. Fitzsimmons 
 
 Administrator 
 
 COPYRIGHT 1915 BY 
 LOYOLA UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
To My Mother 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 There is nothing very scientific, about this sketch. 
 It is not a biography, but the simple story of how one 
 man inaugurated a great movement. With the birth 
 of that movement the story is told. Even in the period 
 considered, many events and details interesting in 
 themselves and necessary for any adequate knowledge 
 of the character of Saint Ignatius, are left untouched 
 as being not altogether pertinent to the object in view— 
 the awakening in the hearts of American boys and 
 girls and young men and young women a consciousness 
 of the supreme importance of plain dealing with God. 
 
 The Author. 
 
THE DREAM OF THE SOLDIER-SAINT 
 
 I 
 
 The reign of Ferdinand and Isabella is one which 
 historians date from and imaginative schoolboys linger 
 over. The union of the crowns of Castile and Arragon 
 had resulted in a monarchy which, for the strength of 
 its organization and the splendor of its court, chal¬ 
 lenged comparison with any power in European history. 
 Then were eight hundred years of war brought to a 
 triumphant issue in the Conquest of Granada, and the 
 Moorish race was expelled from Spain forever. And 
 in the first flush of this victory Isabella took the step 
 that was to give another world to men. 
 
 When we first read the story of Columbus, we 
 blessed that splendid Oueen for the fine burst of 
 generosity, not unmingled with recklessness, with which 
 she espoused the cause of a man whom all the world 
 called a fool. Yet the impulse was in keeping with her 
 day. The air was electric with high enthusiasm, 
 charged with the spirit of adventure. It was the day 
 of great dreams and great deeds. 
 
 How well Columbus fits into the setting of this 
 period ! A dreamer and a globe-trotter indeed, with 
 his strong faith and aggressive spirit, he seems made 
 for that land of romance, of conquest, of devotion— 
 heroic Spain. From boyhood he had cherished a dream. 
 It had grown with his growth and become rooted in 
 his soul. Through ridicule, want, disappointment, and 
 treachery, he had clung to it, suffered for it, fought for 
 it, until, by favor of one of the very greatest women 
 that ever graced a European throne, he brought it to 
 
6 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 full fruition and laid a new continent at the feet of 
 the world that had laughed at him. 
 
 The men who have done great things in the world 
 have dreamed them first, and dreaming is not a bad 
 occupation if rightly directed. Anybody can dream. 
 Some people do nothing else, and the world justly 
 condemns them. But it takes a man to conceive a 
 great and noble object and follow up that object to 
 realization in spite of all opposition. Most young men 
 dream of great things they are going to do before they 
 die; but as time goes on the mills of the world grind 
 their dreams to powder, and in their old age they look 
 back with regret on what they might have done. Hence 
 it is very important for us to learn early in life that 
 God has great work for us to do and that He wants us 
 to take it seriously. Find your work, build your dream 
 around it, and you are in a fair way to become a man 
 apart in a world of mediocrity. 
 
 Our story has to do with another dreamer of this 
 same golden age. It is the story of a man who, like 
 Columbus, conceived a great project, dared as much 
 for it, and suffered as long and as painfully before he 
 realized its promise. The exact date of his birth is not 
 known, but it was some time in 1491, the year before 
 Columbus set out across the unknown sea. He was 
 born in the old castle of Loyola, which stood on the 
 southern slopes of the Pyrenees in the Basque province 
 of Guipuscoa, a part of Isabella’s own Castile. In 
 baptism he was called Enico or Inigo, but to us he is 
 known as Saint Ignatius of Loyola. 
 
 The mountains he looked upon in his babyhood were 
 noted for their iron ore, which the sword-makers of 
 Toledo hammered into their famous blades. And the 
 inhabitants of that neighborhood seem to have taken 
 something of their character from those rugged peaks. 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 7 
 
 They too had iron in their veins. To this day the 
 Basques are a remarkably high-spirited, full-blooded 
 race; and they have had no mean part in the making 
 of history on the Spanish Peninsula. Their situation 
 made them a people to be reckoned with, and their 
 passionate disposition caused continual trouble to the 
 powers that alternately ruled over them. At this time 
 of grace, however, they were well kept in hand by 
 the wisdom of their beloved Regent. 
 
 Little is known of Ignatius’s early years. His 
 mother, a very devout woman, died while he was still 
 a child; and he grew up and received his earlier 
 Christian education at the home of his aunt, Doha 
 Maria de Guebara. From here, as soon as he was old 
 enough, he entered the court of King Ferdinand as 
 a page. 
 
 Of his life from his entrance into the royal palace 
 until his twenty-seventh year, we have only a few 
 details. We know that he became very devoted to 
 books of chivalry and romance; and that he wrote 
 verses, many of them on religious topics, others dedi¬ 
 cated to a lady high in court, whom he had chosen 
 according to the chivalrous custom of the time as the 
 object of his knightly devotion. We know too that 
 he was much opposed to the vice of gambling, then a 
 very popular form of amusement among the nobles 
 of Spain. 
 
 The Spanish court was at that time approaching its 
 meridian glory. Wealth flowed in from new dominions; 
 genius was appreciated; beauty was admired; high 
 achievement was applauded. The afterglow of departed 
 chivalry still warmed Spanish hearts. Good cheer ran 
 high, and wealth made brave display. And there were, 
 we may be certain, many of the evils attendant on pomp 
 and pride. 
 
8 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 There is no doubt that Ignatius entered into the 
 spirit of his surroundings; in later life he always 
 referred to this period as a time utterly given over to 
 vanities. It is not surprising that, from the heights of 
 sanctity which he afterwards reached, all this must 
 have seemed to him the merest trifling of the precious 
 time God had put at his disposal. The splendor of 
 royal entertainment and the company of knights and 
 ladies had charms for him, and we cannot doubt that 
 he took a keen pleasure in them. How far the gayety 
 of his environment led him, we cannot be sure. Yet if 
 we had nothing to go by but his record as a brave, 
 God-fearing soldier of Spain, we could say unhesi¬ 
 tatingly that he never allowed the desire for pleasure 
 to get complete possession of his heart. 
 
 Royal palaces may not appeal to us as places at all 
 likely to promote saintliness. Yet it is certain that 
 God allows many of His chosen souls to dip into the 
 tide of worldliness only to claim them the more surely 
 for His own when they have learned the limits of 
 human enjoyment and its inadequate compensations. 
 There is a great deal of the stuff of sanctity concealed 
 in young hearts that show to the world nothing but 
 giddiness. Boys and girls who love pleasure and seem 
 to think of nothing but the gewgaws of the moment 
 may have, at the same time, depths of seriousness 
 within them not suspected by the rest of the world, 
 and only at rare moments known to themselves. These 
 are much more likely, when grace flashes the great 
 truths into their souls, to turn to God and be true to 
 Him than those pitiably comfortable people who take 
 their pleasures as they come and merely as a matter 
 of course. 
 
 But Ignatius was not a mere pleasure-seeker. The 
 favor of grandees and ladies had power to attract, but 
 not to hold him. All this time he was dreaming— 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 9 
 
 dreaming of winning credit for himself in a career 
 which was then the recognized test of a man. He had 
 resolved to be a great soldier. The world should honor 
 him for his deeds, not merely for his rank. Let men 
 of lower spirit stay where applause was cheap and 
 flattery the current coin, their whole study to grace 
 gay company with their wit or show to advantage in 
 ball-room and banquet-hall. He would be no carpet- 
 knight. Better for him the stubborn field, with its 
 stern code of conduct, its hard-bought honors, its flags 
 to defend, and its trophies to be won. 
 
 The American of to-day can appreciate this spirit. 
 Here and now it is not a man’s ancestry that matters, 
 but his own record in the world of achievement. Great 
 ancestry covers no shortcomings; the glory of the 
 father is not inherited by the son. Ignatius, then, with 
 a spirit which we can understand and admire, was not 
 content with what his birth had given him. His 
 attractive and engaging personality made him a good 
 representative of the ancient house of Loyola. He 
 was rather short, but strong and well-proportioned, 
 with the olive complexion characteristic of his race and 
 features which revealed instantly every change of 
 feeling. He was, moreover, a pleasant-spoken com¬ 
 panionable man, well schooled in the manners of the 
 court. But, though not indifferent to his own natural 
 advantages, he was not satisfied with their mere posses¬ 
 sion. He applied himself with all his energy to the 
 study of military tactics and the practice of arms, in 
 order to win for himself on his own merits a name 
 and a position. The dream was good; and, as he made 
 it the driving motive of his life, he was really disposing 
 his soul for a very different warfare. Little did he 
 know the character of the war he was to wage or the 
 glory it was to bring him, not only on the tongues of 
 men, but in the eternal Courts of God. 
 
II 
 
 It was not until 1517 that Ignatius began his active 
 career in the field. On the death of Ferdinand the 
 Catholic, Navarre had become the object of bitter 
 contention between France and Spain. John III, its 
 rightful sovereign, had been dispossessed by Ferdi¬ 
 nand; and now, with the aid of France, he sought to 
 reinstate himself. The inhabitants themselves disliked 
 the Spanish rule, and when the French armies poured 
 across the Pyrenees, many of the stronger towns 
 revolted. 
 
 For four years Ignatius fought for the Spanish cause. 
 Most of this time he probably held a subordinate posi¬ 
 tion. He commanded, however, a successful attack 
 on the Castilian town of Najara and gained recognition, 
 not only by his personal bravery, but by his lofty 
 refusal to take any part of the spoils. He was working 
 out his dream, this high-spirited Spaniard, and personal 
 aggrandizement had no part in it. 
 
 But it was only at the end of the campaign that he 
 showed the courage that gives him a place among 
 military heroes. One position after another had fallen 
 into the hands of the French. The Spaniards, hard- 
 pressed on every side, decided to make their last stand 
 at Pamplona, the recognized key to this territory since 
 the day of Charlemagne. It had, however, only a few 
 defenders; its fortifications were unfinished, and its 
 supplies inadequate. Moreover, the inhabitants were 
 friendly to the French, and they felt that, in any event, 
 Spain could not possibly regain her lost fortunes in 
 this territory. 
 
 Naturally enough then, when the moment for action 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 11 
 
 came, the magistrates of the town gave up all thought 
 of resistance. There was almost no chance of success, 
 and surrender without a struggle would secure them 
 better terms. Ignatius, now an artillery-captain, vio¬ 
 lently opposed this policy and urged them to change 
 their plans. Though they may have laughed at him 
 for his counsel, they must have admired his courage. 
 Whether he really compared their position to that of 
 Aeneas at Troy, we cannot be sure. But the speech 
 attributed to him is certainly in accordance with his 
 spirit: 
 
 “I see nothing to admire in Aeneas when I think of 
 his escaping from the flames that consumed his city. 
 Me should have merited my best praise had he died a 
 holocaust of his fidelity. To shun the common peril is 
 the coward’s part; to perish in the universal ruin is 
 the mischance of brave men.” 
 
 But his efforts were wasted; less valiant, though 
 perhaps more prudent opinion prevailed, and the town 
 threw open its gates to the invaders. Burning with 
 the shame of it, Ignatius went straight to the com¬ 
 mandant of the citadel and finally induced him to make 
 at least some show of resistance. This advantage, 
 gained over the opposition of all the other officers, 
 was nearly lost when a parley was called at the quarters 
 of the French general. With the confidence of victors 
 the French offered severe terms, and the commandant 
 began to waver in his purpose of resistance. Two 
 other officers present were altogether in favor of 
 accepting the proffered conditions. Ignatius alone 
 stood out against all overtures. Let the French take 
 the citadel if they could by force of arms. He would 
 have none of their terms. They little knew the mettle 
 of Spanish men if they thought to get that stronghold 
 so cheaply. He spoke his mind with such vehemence 
 that the French commander angrily dismissed the 
 
12 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 assembly. Whatever the other Spaniards thought, 
 there was nothing for it now but a fight. This young 
 firebrand had committed himself and them, and they 
 could not escape the heroic course thrust upon them. 
 Back they went to the citadel, and the French prepared 
 to attack at once. 
 
 Any one can dream, as we have said; and in the same 
 way any one can fight when everything is in his favor. 
 But all the world applauds the leader of a forlorn 
 hope. And this was the position of Ignatius at Pam¬ 
 plona. Under the circumstances, no disgrace would 
 have attached to a surrender; but men of his caliber 
 are not satisfied to come off without disgrace. Death 
 might come; but that was “the mischance of brave 
 men.” And he prepared for it. No priest was at hand, 
 so he made his confession to a fellow-soldier. This 
 act of humiliation, though it had of course no sacra¬ 
 mental value, was not an uncommon thing in those 
 days of simple faith. Its motive was the fear of God, 
 and the good will which prompted it must have received 
 its reward in true peace of soul. 
 
 The French opened their attack by training their 
 artillery against the weakest part of the outer wall. To 
 return the fire effectively, Ignatius saw at once that his 
 men must be directed by some one stationed above. 
 The top of that wall was the place for the artillery- 
 captain. Here was work after his own heart. Risk 
 there was, but opportunity also to realize his dream. 
 Bully appreciating the danger, no doubt, yet indifferent 
 to anything but his martial honor and the cause at 
 stake, he mounted to the top of the half-built wall. 
 There where the whole attack was concentrated he 
 stood with lifted sword, the ruling spirit of that 
 desperate defense. 
 
 But not for long. A French cannon-ball struck his 
 leg, and there ended the siege of Pamplona and the 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 13 
 
 military career of Ignatius. He fell, and Spain’s last 
 stronghold in Navarre passed into the hands of France. 
 
 The stand he had taken during the parley and the 
 heroism of his conduct at the siege had won for 
 Ignatius the deep respect of his foes. Seldom was 
 prisoner of w 7 ar treated with greater deference. They 
 carried him to his lodgings in the town and provided 
 physicians to dress his wounds. The shattered bone 
 was set, and for tw 7 o w r eeks he lay in intense suffering. 
 It then became apparent that he required treatment 
 which was unavailable at Pamplona. The French, as 
 one last mark of the respect in which they held him, 
 conveyed him to his old home, the castle of Loyola, 
 now occupied by his brother, Don Martin Garzia. 
 
 Here examination showed that the leg had been badly 
 set, and a second operation w T as performed. This con¬ 
 sisted in breaking the bone again in order to reset it, 
 surely a terrible ordeal, but one which Ignatius bore 
 with no other sign of pain than the clenching of his 
 hands. An attack of fever followed and threatened 
 to prove fatal; but he recovered slowly, and the wound 
 healed. 
 
 It was found, how r ever, that a piece of the bone pro¬ 
 truded below 7 the knee, and he w 7 as told that this would 
 mean a permanent deformity. The gallant courtier 
 could not bear the thought of appearing to disadvantage 
 in the halls of fashion. Trunk-hose were the prevailing 
 style! So the surgeons were called upon to say 
 what could be done. They told him that the part 
 which protruded could be sawed off, but that this 
 would cause much greater pain than anything he had 
 yet endured. The soldier told them to go ahead w 7 ith 
 the work, and to begin at once. They did so; and 
 Ignatius, refusing to be strapped down as the custom 
 was in such cases, bore the torture of this rough surgery 
 without movement or murmur. The deformity was 
 
14 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 removed; but, on finding that the leg was now short¬ 
 ened, he submitted to having it stretched for weeks in 
 order to do away with this hindrance to his graceful¬ 
 ness of carriage. The success of this method, if any, 
 was not complete; for he walked with a perceptible 
 limp the rest of his life. 
 
 The Saint always spoke of this grilling experience 
 as his “martyrdom of vanity,” and all his life he made 
 the thought of it an added incentive to endure suffer¬ 
 ings for Christ. 
 
Ill 
 
 We have seen enough of the character of Ignatius 
 to understand how intolerable must have been the 
 inactivity now forced upon him. Manly virtues he 
 possessed in high degree, but there was something 
 unsoftened and untamed about his cavalier spirit. 
 Patience he had not learned. The battle of life was 
 sweet to him, and his fiery soul chafed at the very 
 thought of lying passive through the long weeks. To 
 banish at least some part of their monotony, he called 
 for tales of romance and adventure such as he had read 
 with bounding heart in the gay days at court. But his 
 old home was, like Shylock’s, a “sober house.” The 
 only reading-matter it could provide was a “Life of 
 Christ” and a volume containing the Lives of the 
 Saints. Any diversion, however, was welcome. So 
 he took up the distasteful books — and God’s great 
 designs over the Spanish cavalier began to be realized. 
 
 Ignatius was a man with an active, honest mind and 
 a strong will. He did not read passively. Though the 
 old romances had appealed only to his imagination, he 
 had eagerly responded to them. With boyish enthusi¬ 
 asm he had pictured himself going through the exploits 
 of the heroic characters presented to him. Thus had 
 his dream been fashioned, and he had set himself with 
 all his heart to work it out, to become a knight worthy 
 of the name. Now, perhaps for the first time in his 
 life, he found himself reading something that called 
 for serious thinking. And again he responded; he 
 thought, lingered over the thought, and applied it to 
 himself. The imaginative element had its part, but his 
 best powers of reasoning and assimilation were also 
 called into play. 
 
16 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 He has told us that the one great idea forced upon 
 him by the consideration of the lives of the saints was: 
 “These men have made heroic sacrifices for God. Why 
 cannot I do the same ?” Perhaps it was a mere specu¬ 
 lation at first; but he dwelt on the thought, turned it 
 over in his mind, pictured himself as an ascetic—then 
 put aside the whole thing and returned to his dream of 
 military fame and royal honor. 
 
 Let us remark right here that Ignatius was not sick 
 of the world. The w r orld had not used him badly, and 
 his was a disposition that got great enjoyment out of 
 life. He knew what misery and sin were, and he had 
 learned something of the futility and emptiness of 
 human effort. But he was not world-wearied, nor 
 cynical, nor sore, nor sorry. He had tasted life, and 
 it was sweet to his lips. And now he dwelt on the 
 happiness of a career in the world—dwelt for hours, 
 as he tells us, on what he veould do to win favor and 
 notice. Then he turned to consider the very different 
 future held out to him as an ideal in the lives of God’s 
 chosen friends, a future of oblivion so far as the world 
 was concerned, a life absolutely cut off from all his old 
 associations, and one where there would be no eye but 
 God’s to see his deeds, no voice to praise him but that 
 of his own conscience. The two dreams recurred to 
 him day by day, and he deliberately weighed one 
 against the other. The battle of his life was on; and 
 only God knew what hung in the balance. 
 
 There was a good deal of the impulsive in his char¬ 
 acter, but this was no affair of mere emotion. It was 
 a business proposition, a cool calculation as to which 
 course would yield the better returns. Vocations 
 generally enter the soul, we may say, by the path of 
 least resistance. To an imaginative, ardent tempera¬ 
 ment, the first step may be purely an emotional one* 
 God takes the soul as it is, knowing that back of this 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 17 
 
 first impulse there is a fund of generosity which will 
 make that soul His champion forever. Thus the 
 adventurous soul of Ignatius was first roused by the 
 thought of rivaling the saints in their lives of penance. 
 But lie considered both sides carefully before coming 
 to a decision. 
 
 One constantly recurring phenomenon made a deep 
 impression on him. He noticed that though the dream 
 of worldly glory was always sweet while it was with 
 him, it invariably left him weary and heart-sick at the 
 end. On the other hand, the contemplation of a life 
 according to the example of the saints always left him 
 calm and joyful. And this difference he thought upon 
 until he had caught its full significance. We can fancy 
 him asking himself: “Will not the world, no matter 
 how much I get out of it, leave this same weariness of 
 spirit upon me in my old age? And will not the life of 
 higher service, hard though it be in itself, leave me at 
 peace forever?” These were questions worth careful 
 and impartial consideration. 
 
 We may wonder if he did not feel at times that all 
 this heroic plan was simply a foolish notion wrought 
 in his mind by the weakened condition of his body. 
 Perhaps there were moments when he felt that by one 
 act of his will he could put this whole thing out of his 
 thoughts forever. He could certainly have ignored the 
 promptings of grace; and whether God would have 
 repeated the call we do not know. “He stands at the 
 door and knocks;” but He has all respect for His 
 creature’s free-will, and if His first distinct summons 
 be ignored. He may withdraw some of His graces and 
 leave the soul more to its own poor resources. But 
 Ignatius was honest with God. He faced the matter 
 squarely; he deliberated on his choice; and above all 
 he prayed, prayed with manly faith and confidence for 
 the light to see and the will tc do. 
 
18 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 We know the result. God loved the intrepid soul 
 that had fought so stoutly at Pamplona. He wanted 
 such a soldier for His own great army, and He gave 
 him the grace to decide aright. The high resolve was 
 taken. Knowing the world thoroughly and loving it 
 well, Ignatius, by a deliberate and final choice, deter¬ 
 mined to forsake it forever and enlist once for all un¬ 
 der the banner of Christ. It was a full capitulation. 
 There was to be no divided allegiance. He had a King 
 worthy of his devotion at last. 
 
 Ignatius had made his choice; he was now God's 
 champion: but he had not yet found his work. He had 
 simply put himself at the disposal of God, and from 
 this time on we see him being led by divine grace to 
 the great work he was to accomplish. He was not 
 merely passive., He made his plans, as we shall see; 
 but always on condition that they w r ere in accordance 
 with the wishes of his Master. 
 
 In making his first submission, he had had no direc¬ 
 tion but that of his own honest heart reinforced by the 
 breathings of the Holy Spirit. His was no ordinary 
 vocation. Yet it has much in common with all divine 
 calls. He decided it alone —which is finally the only 
 way in which any one can settle this great question. 
 It is a transaction between the soul and God, in which 
 the soul freely gives itself up. No one can be driven 
 into it, and no one should allow himself to be coaxed 
 or wheedled into it—or away from it. Confessors and 
 directors may examine and advise—in ordinary cases 
 this is indispensible—but the final “yes” or “no” is 
 entirely in one’s own hands. For this decision courage 
 is necessary. And the most courageous as well as the 
 most sensible course for those who are troubled is to 
 go to a confessor who knows them, speak out what is 
 in their hearts on both sides of the question, and abide 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 19 
 
 by his advice. He cannot decide for them, but he can 
 clear the way for their decision. 
 
 Ignatius took no actual steps without consulting 
 God's representatives, and at their word he dropped 
 some of his most cherished designs. For the present 
 he only knew, and that for certain, that he was to 
 devote himself entirely to the service of God. How 
 that service was to be rendered, he waited to be told. 
 He knew that the question of a life of consecration was 
 too tremendously important to be decided hastily, and 
 he took time to consider it fully. But, having made 
 his decision, he never revoked it. He had a mind of his 
 own, and when the temptation came to go back to his 
 former life, he despised and repudiated it as a sugges¬ 
 tion of the devil. He had sought the truth, and having 
 found it, he used it. He did something with it. Unlike 
 that pathetic young man in the Gospel, he had asked 
 Christ what he should do to be perfect, with his mind 
 already made up to do as he was told. It was the 
 military virtue of obedience, strengthened by the grace 
 of God. Christ qualifies all His calls as He did in 
 speaking to that young man, “If thou wilt.” 
 
 “Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?” cried out 
 Saint Paul as he lay stricken to the dust on the road 
 to Damascus. And he too did as he was told. In 
 fact, the great difference between the saints and other 
 people is that they do as well as they possibly can 
 what they are told to do by God. There is no faint¬ 
 hearted. compromising “What is the least You expect 
 of me?” but a straightforward “What wilt Thou have 
 me to do?” 
 
 The course that presented itself to Ignatius as the 
 obvious one was to atone for the wasted years of his 
 youth by a life of penance. It was the logical result 
 of his new inspiration. For he had looked well into 
 the past during those long days of reflection and prayer. 
 
20 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 And one thing became very clear to him: that his life 
 thus far had been a very unprofitable one so far as the 
 real purposes of life were concerned. The thought 
 made him indignant with himself, and he resolved on 
 a course of penitential expiation. Penance is the first 
 step in the way of perfection. Perhaps that is why the 
 world hates its very name. 
 
 I fancy that to many people the most distasteful part 
 of the life of a saint is the chapter on mortification. 
 In the natural order men realize that everything has 
 its price and act accordingly. But they somehow seem 
 to think that the same doesn’t hold when the prizes to 
 be gained are really worth while. They will wear the 
 most uncomfortable clothes at the dictates of fashion 
 and put themselves to a thousand inconveniences in 
 conformity with the canons of propriety; yet they have 
 nothing but contempt for the men and women who 
 make their sacrifices in accordance with the old-fash¬ 
 ioned idea that Pleaven is a prize worth the winning. 
 
 Ignatius was resolved to prove himself sincere in his 
 purpose by holding a course directly opposed to the 
 one he had before pursued. He had served the world 
 before, had suffered and bled for it; he would suffer 
 and bleed in the service of Christ. He would make a 
 pilgrimage to the Holy Land, return and pass the 
 remainder of his life in a Carthusian monastery. With 
 the light so far given him, he thought this would be 
 most pleasing to God. 
 
 As a matter of fact, God had very different work 
 marked out for him; and when it was manifested to 
 him, he changed his plan with the ready obedience of 
 the perfect soldier. He was serving in the ranks, not 
 directing the campaign. We have touched on this trait 
 in his character before, but the motive which inspired 
 it is worth more than passing attention if we are to 
 understand Saint Ignatius. His whole desire was to 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 21 
 
 be a perfect instrument in the hands of God, and he 
 had absolute confidence in his Leader. To do God’s 
 will as it became evident was the informing principle 
 of his life, and it led him to the heights of sanctity. 
 Though he did not know God’s designs with regard to 
 him, he never for one moment wavered or faltered or 
 worried. 
 
 There are a great many people in the world who 
 constantly bother their heads about the future and, at 
 the same time, are neglecting the very thing that would 
 make that future a success. To do God's will now, to 
 keep to one’s plain duty from day to day, is the very 
 best possible preparation for the future. God doesn’t 
 ask us to plan our life-work. He wants us to wait to 
 be told, and to hold ourselves ready to do what we are 
 told at once when the word comes. It is the attitude 
 of the soldier and the dictate of common sense. If I 
 am to consecrate myself to God, He will let me know 
 it in His own good time. Meanwhile I prepare myself 
 to hear Him by going about my business, by earnest 
 prayer, and by faithful correspondence to the graces 
 offered me. Thus I become a friend of God’s, and 
 God will not allow a friend of His to make a mistake 
 in a matter so important. 
 
IV 
 
 At last there came a day in the spring of 1522 
 when Ignatius found himself sufficiently recovered 
 to undertake a journey. He wanted competent 
 spiritual direction and, with this in mind, prepared 
 to set out for the Benedictine monastery of Mont¬ 
 serrat. He had taken no one into his confidence, 
 but his brother, Don Martin, had guessed his gen¬ 
 eral purpose. Small wonder, in view of so pro¬ 
 nounced a change in the manner of the cavalier! 
 Talk of camps and courts fell fiat in the sick-room. 
 Instead, the invalid spoke of divine things with 
 glowing enthusiasm. He spent long hours in med¬ 
 itation and at night was often found gazing up at 
 the starry sky, overwhelmed with a profound sense 
 of the insignificance of all things earthly in com¬ 
 parison with the things of God. 
 
 Don Martin was much concerned; and he ap¬ 
 proached Ignatius on the subject, speaking gently 
 and in general terms, we may be sure, but to the 
 purpose all the same. He dwelt on the glorious 
 possibilities of a career in the field, touched on the 
 honor Ignatius had already won for himself, and 
 ended with a fervent appeal to his transformed 
 brother not to do anything unworthy of his station. 
 
 The solicitous Don Martin probably considered 
 the changed behavior of Ignatius a natural result 
 of his hard experience, an impulse to quit a world 
 which had used him harshly. Like most people out¬ 
 side the Church and some within it, he no doubt 
 held the opinion that seminaries and religious 
 houses were recruited mainly from two classes: 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 23 
 
 first, those who know nothing of the world, “who 
 don’t know what they are missing”; and secondly, 
 those who have known the world too well and have 
 lost their capacity for enjoying it. 
 
 If these critics could only become acquainted with 
 the real character of those who enter on the higher 
 ways! There are, thank God, many who come to 
 the great service with little of that equipment 
 which most men prize so highly—“knowledge of 
 the world.” But the fact that they have little 
 “experience” does not mean that they “don’t know 
 what they are missing,” nor dees it make their sacri¬ 
 fice less noble. These souls love life not less, but 
 more, than the devotees of pleasure. The saints 
 loved more ardently than we; yes, and in the truest 
 sense, they loved the world more. “They loved it 
 well enough to die for it.” World-wearied souls too 
 sometimes find a refuge in the life of consecration. 
 Often God calls His chosen ones by sending them 
 sorrows or disappointments. The death of a loved 
 one or the collapse of a cherished project throws 
 them back upon God as their only sure solace. And 
 they find His service the sweeter in consequence. 
 
 Yet these two classes by no means make up the 
 roll of honor. Thousands, like Ignatius, leave the 
 world with life at its brightest and love at its truest. 
 The vocation angel calls them when life promises 
 most. The world holds out a brimming cup for 
 their lips and garlands for their brows. Yet, as 
 the clear “Leave all!” sounds in their ears, they 
 turn their backs upon the whole thing, with some¬ 
 thing like regret perhaps, yet resolute of heart. 
 
 “I was a youth in crowded cities gay, 
 
 Where men before the idol Pleasure fall; 
 
24 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 ’Twas at a reckless, merry, midnight play, 
 
 I heard aghast dread words, ‘Leave all! Leave 
 all!’ ” 
 
 Ignatius was not the man to let family ties or any 
 worldly consideration change his purpose. He loved 
 Loyola with all his devoted soul, but he knew the 
 price of his dream. The loss of home and family 
 w T as a part of that price. If his reply to Don Martin 
 seem to us somewhat cold, we know that it did not 
 proceed from indifference to the sacred ties of blood 
 and birthplace. He heeded a higher call. Beneath 
 his brief and non-committal answer we can well 
 believe that wounded nature was struggling with 
 his determined will. But no sign of that conflict 
 was allowed to appear. He replied that he con¬ 
 templated nothing unreasonable, and that the honor 
 of the house of Loyola should not suffer through 
 any action of his. With this assurance his brother 
 was forced to be satisfied. If Don Martin only 
 knew! There rode forth from Loyola that day one 
 who was to make that house illustrious in a degree 
 beyond his most ambitious dreams. 
 
 The monastery of Our Lady of Montserrat was 
 situated high up on the slope of a detached chain 
 of the Pyrenees, about a day’s journey from Barce¬ 
 lona. Here, one day in March, Ignatius dismounted 
 from his mule and asked for a spiritual director. 
 A priest was appointed for him, and our soldier 
 immediately began his preparation for a general 
 confession. He went over his whole life and con¬ 
 fessed his sins with tears of contrition, then laid 
 before his director the new plan of life to which he 
 believed himself called. The monk approved of his 
 resolution, and with this sanction Ignatius signal¬ 
 ized his renunciation in a characteristic way. 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 25 
 
 The knights of old had been accustomed, accord¬ 
 ing to the laws of chivalry, to keep the night-watch 
 of arms before the altar, preparatory to receiving 
 their spurs. He would keep the night-watch of 
 love in token of his enlistment in the cause of 
 Christ. 
 
 It "was the eve of the Annunciation. He put off 
 his fine clothes and gave them to a passing beggar ; 
 then dressed himself in a cloak of coarse sackcloth 
 with a cord about his waist, took a pilgrim’s staff 
 in his hand, and went before our Lady’s altar. 
 Beside that altar he hung up his sword, the finely 
 tempered, damascened steel rapier which may be 
 seen today at the Church of Belem in Barcelona. 
 
 What rapture filled his soul that night, only the 
 angels of the sanctuary could tell. Here was the 
 dedication of himself and his dream. Knights of 
 the olden time had kept that watch clad in full 
 armor, with their hands upon their swords; he kept 
 it clothed in the poor garment of an outcast mendi¬ 
 cant, leaning on his staff. Where they had dreamed 
 of marshalled battalions advancing to the Holy 
 Land with the eyes of all the world upon them, he 
 dreamed of a lone pilgrimage with none but Christ 
 to keep him company. They had sworn fealty to 
 their lady-love; he chose Mary, Queen of Heaven, 
 to be his inspiration and his guide. Tears wet his 
 eyes as he gazed through the night on the dwelling- 
 place of his new Captain. He had so long neglected 
 his King! Evermore his warfare would be that of 
 Christ, and he would begin that warfare with 
 himself. His own soul was the first battle-ground; 
 after that, the world! By God’s help and the favor 
 of our Lady, he would there wage a war which 
 Heaven should approve. 
 
 Morning dawned and found him still watching. 
 
26 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 At Mass he received his Lord in Holy Communion 
 and then went forth to do what God should direct. 
 
 A few miles from the monastery was the little 
 town of Manresa. Here Ignatius found lodgings 
 in the hospital. Hospitals at that time were the 
 sorry refuges of those who had no home, and it was 
 among the outcasts of society that Ignatius took up 
 his abode. He lived on the little bread he could 
 beg, and devoted himself to prayer, penance, and 
 the service of the sick about him. 
 
 His idea was to go directly counter to his natural 
 inclinations, and with this in view he not only 
 imposed upon himself the most cruel penances and 
 fatiguing labors, but strove to pass as the lowest 
 of vagabonds. Recognition by the world had been 
 the guiding motive of his former life. Now he sought 
 only to be ignored and unnoticed. In this latter 
 desire his success was only partial. His natural 
 grace and refinement could not be hidden. More¬ 
 over, many learned of his renunciation and despised 
 him accordingly—nor did they hesitate to speak out 
 their sentiments in public. Ignatius welcomed this 
 treatment. It too was a part of the price of his 
 dream. A natural impulse of resentment must have 
 sprung up in his warrior heart, but it was sup¬ 
 pressed before its manifestation. Had not Christ, 
 his new Captain, been proclaimed a fool to all the 
 world? 
 
 God was pleased with the constancy of His 
 soldier. He loved that heart of fire, and He had 
 further designs for it. It was probably by an 
 inspiration of divine grace that Ignatius decided, 
 after four months of this lowly existence, to seek 
 a place of retirement and give himself entirely to 
 prayer and penance. 
 
V 
 
 Not far from the town, on a rocky slope over¬ 
 looking a beautiful valley which was called “The 
 Vale of Paradise,” Ignatius found a dark, unfre¬ 
 quented cave which he determined to make his 
 hermitage. For six months this was his home. Pie 
 left it only at rare intervals to make a short pilgrim¬ 
 age to neighboring shrines or to beg the little food 
 he would allow himself. On two occasions, when 
 weakened and feverish from his austerities, he was 
 removed to the hospital for a short stay. 
 
 In this place of self-exile Ignatius passed through 
 experiences which only the greatest friends of God 
 ever know. He meant business and wanted to show 
 himself in earnest. He therefore spent whole nights 
 in meditation, fasted three and even four days in 
 succession, scourged himself repeatedly, and slept, 
 when overcome by exhaustion, on the damp stone 
 floor. 
 
 All this, however, was the smallest part of his 
 trial. As the greatest sufferings of Christ on the 
 Cross were not physical, but consisted in the with¬ 
 drawal of the support of His Father, so the supreme 
 test of the follower of Christ consists in tasting at 
 least some part of the dereliction of Calvary. Up to 
 this time the Saint had found nothing but comfort 
 and joy in his devotions. Now God seemed to have 
 abandoned him, and his soul was left as forsaken 
 and cold as his lonely home. 
 
 Here again we see the determination that makes 
 for sanctity. Any one can dream, but it is the 
 working out of the dream that proves the man; any 
 
28 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 one can fight, but it is fighting against odds that 
 proves the soldier; any one can pray when consola¬ 
 tions are showered on the soul, but the stamina and 
 steadfastness of God’s friends are proved by 
 persevering in prayer when the Heavens are as 
 brass and God seems deaf to all appeals. The man 
 who continues to pray, and believe, and hope, and 
 love, when he does not feel the least inclination to 
 do so, has real spiritual strength. “Everything is 
 worth what it costs,” as the old French saying has 
 it; and the best prayer is the one that costs us most. 
 
 Temptations too crowded upon him. God was 
 fashioning a great apostle, and every apostle must 
 go through the purifying flames of temptation. 
 Very natural to flesh and blood was the thought, 
 “If this life is so hard at its very beginning, how 
 can I expect to keep it up through long years?” He 
 realized, however, that the subtle question was put 
 by the devil, and he responded with another ques¬ 
 tion, “Long years? Wretch, can you promise me 
 one hour of life?” 
 
 Carried off to the hospital with his body weak¬ 
 ened to helplessness, the thought came to him, as 
 he lay suffering, that death need have no terrors 
 for him now, since he had surely merited Heaven by 
 his mortifications. A reasonable thought, we might 
 say. But Ignatius, after a moment’s reflection, 
 looked upon it as a piece of sheer presumption. To 
 overcome the suggestion, he recalled the sins of 
 his life and told those who attended him to remind 
 him constantly of his unworthy condition in the 
 sight of God. 
 
 But the most awful trial of all was to come. 
 Manresa was his novitiate. He was to become a 
 master in the direction of souls, and here he was to 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 29 
 
 learn all the tortuous ways by which souls are 
 purified. God permitted him to be tried by scruples 
 of conscience which gave him absolutely no rest. 
 Was the general confession he had made a valid 
 one? Had he confessed this or that sin? Did he 
 have real contrition? These and a thousand similar 
 questions presented themselves and only increased 
 his agony the more he thought of them. His con¬ 
 fessor could not quiet him. Holy Communion served 
 but to intensify his anguish, for he feared it was 
 but an occasion of deeper damnation. 
 
 We can understand something of the horror of 
 his affliction from the lengths to which it led him. 
 It was while staying at the house of the Dominicans 
 in the town that the torment reached its climax in 
 a violent impulse to throw himself from the window 
 of his cell to the rocks below. In his excess of 
 misery it seemed for the moment that death with 
 its worst consequences were better than life under 
 such hard conditions. Was this the same Ignatius 
 that had so lately kept the night-watch of love and 
 looked forward to sufferings with such eager long¬ 
 ing? Ah, how commonplace in their reality are 
 many of the heroic things we mark out for ourselves 
 in dreams! By sheer force of will he corresponded 
 with the grace given him and conquered the tempta¬ 
 tion. But the torment continued until, with a sort 
 of desperation, he resolved to deny himself all food 
 until God should free him. 
 
 We see in this something of that compelling 
 insistence with God which is often remarked in 
 great saints. To us it seems almost impudence, yet 
 in an exalted soul it may be looked upon as the 
 confidence of the simple child in the goodness of 
 his father. It is no mere pouting, but a firm belief 
 
30 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 that God will be moved by a supremely earnest 
 appeal. While Saint Patrick prayed for Ireland on 
 Mount Cruachan, we are told that he refused to be 
 satisfied or to rise from his knees when the angel 
 assured him that his first petitions were granted. 
 He had other favors to ask; and, though told 
 explicitly to be satisfied, he prayed on and would 
 not be silenced, in spite of the fact that all the fury 
 of the elements and the hosts of hell were turned 
 against him. And he was rewarded, for the angel 
 finally brought him assurance that God granted his 
 last petition—it seems to us almost a demand— 
 Ireland would forever bear the Cross. So Ignatius 
 formed this resolution, which looks like making a 
 condition with God, and for seven days he abstained 
 from all food. Then his confessor learned of the 
 proceeding and threatened to refuse him absolution 
 unless he immediately gave up the plan. He obeyed 
 at once, and from that time the scruples became less- 
 troublesome. After a few days he emerged from 
 the darkness of desolation, his lesson learned. 
 
 Weaker souls are not put to such tests; yet all 
 who are in earnest are tested. If all vocations cost 
 so much, few would be strong enough to persevere. 
 But it seems to be in God’s providence that a few 
 spiritual geniuses, by going through the whole 
 gamut of interior suffering, should pave the way 
 for the more ordinary people who make up the great 
 army of God’s workers. The dispensation from 
 such agonies seems to be a legacy left us by the 
 saints. By their constancy they have supplied for 
 our weakness; by their sufferings they have 
 bought our vocations. Saint Ignatius embodied 
 this legacy in a written manual which is forever 
 connected with his experiences at Manresa, and 
 which has pointed out to thousands of inquiring 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 31 
 
 and anxious souls the entrance to the way of per¬ 
 fection and enduring peace. 
 
 The book of the Spiritual Exercises, beginning 
 with the plain fact that man is created by God, leads 
 the soul to the highest spiritual realities and at the 
 same time provides helps and suggestions by which 
 these steps can be taken safely and profitably. 
 Though this is not the place to treat of the Exer¬ 
 cises at length, we cannot pass them over in the 
 consideration of this period of Ignatius’s life. In 
 the Exercises we find a great deal of the soldier- 
 spirit, a reflection of his own ardent, military nature. 
 But it is no romance; it is a plain statement of 
 man’s true position on earth, his duties, and the 
 helps at hand to gain his destiny. This treatise 
 has brought its thousands to the higher way, and 
 it is to-day the groundwork of far-reaching, effec¬ 
 tive, apostolic work. 
 
 Ignatius came from Manresa with a fire-tried, 
 chastened soul and with an incomparably clearer 
 knowledge of the things of God. lie had held close 
 communion with our Lord, and it is certain that 
 here divine truths passing all human understanding 
 were made clear to him. He afterwards said that 
 he had learned more in an hour of prayer at Man¬ 
 resa than all the wise men of the world could teach 
 him. He was privileged to behold visions of our 
 Lord's Sacred Humanity and of the Blessed Virgin 
 Mary, while the mysteries of the Trinity and of 
 Christ’s presence in the Blessed Sacrament were 
 subjects of vivid interior revelations. And it was 
 here that he worked out his inspiring meditation on 
 the Kingdom of Christ and built upon it the plan 
 of his Society of Jesus. 
 
VI 
 
 The life of Saint Ignatius is a striking illustration 
 of the principle that grace does not destroy, but 
 perfects, nature. The penitent of Manresa was a 
 very different man from the hero of Pamplona. 
 Yet there was no violence in the change. In be¬ 
 coming a Saint, he remained every inch a soldier. 
 He was still a fighter, still a dreamer, with all the 
 enthusiasm, and love, and loyalty, and high resolve 
 that possessed him in earlier years. There was 
 simply a transfer of allegiance. He was marching 
 under another flag, following another Leader, doing 
 battle In another cause. 
 
 Had he kept to the profession of arms, his name 
 might be written to-day with that of the Lion- 
 hearted Richard or the Fearless Bayard. And the 
 same rare qualities which would have given him 
 that place among military heroes were the very 
 qualities that have given him a more glorious place 
 among the sainted servants of God. Nothing but 
 death would have kept him from reaching the very 
 first rank in the army. He was a leader indeed, a 
 man who understood men and had the gift of 
 moving them. He knew the human heart; and that 
 knowledge, ennobled and intensified by the pres¬ 
 ence of grace, gave him inspiration for a new and 
 daring dream. He would rally an army to the cause 
 of his King. 
 
 He had unbounded faith in the natural goodness 
 of men. Man’s every impulse, his every desire, his 
 every passion was given him by God for noble 
 purposes and, if rightly directed, would raise his 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 33 
 
 weak nature to the highest dignity. In the heart 
 of every man there were possibilities without 
 number. Given proper motives, men were capable 
 of the most heroic sacrifices. They would die for 
 an idea if that idea were but put before them as 
 something worthy of their loyalty and love. All 
 this he knew; and in the cave of Manresa he built 
 upon this knowledge a plan that none but the 
 boldest dreamer inspired of God could have 
 conceived. 
 
 The old dream was not forgotten. Indeed it was 
 woven with all its glamour, all its compelling 
 attraction, into the texture of the new. The very 
 heart of that old dream was thrown into one daring 
 project, and the hopes of a lifetime were crystallized 
 in one world-wide plan which he called the Medita¬ 
 tion on the Kingdom of Christ. 
 
 This meditation is a trumpet-call to battle, a 
 summons to every man with warm blood in his 
 veins and right ambition in his heart. It sets a 
 mark for the highest endeavor; it is the device of 
 the true soldier of Christ; and when we understand 
 it, we understand the dream of the Soldier Saint. 
 
 The meditation begins with the consideration of 
 a great Crusade organized to do battle with the 
 enemies of God. The movement is set on foot by 
 a king whom all Christians acknowledge and 
 reverence as their sovereign. We attribute to him 
 all the noble qualities usually associated with the 
 ideal ruler; as brave a soldier as Richard the Lion- 
 hearted, as capable a general as Napoleon, as lovable 
 a man as our own Abraham Lincoln, as prudent 
 and pious a Christian as Saint Louis of France. 
 
 Given all these qualities in the highest degree, 
 we suppose this king to be specially commissioned 
 
34 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 by God to organize a Crusade against the infidels. 
 He issues a proclamation. He calls on all Christian 
 men capable of bearing arms to assemble at his 
 court, and from every nation they answer the 
 summons. They stand before him on the appointed 
 day, and the king makes his appeal. He lays down 
 his terms. Never in the history of all time was such 
 an appeal made or such terms offered. 
 
 “My purpose in this campaign,” the king an¬ 
 nounces, “is to bring all the infidel nations to the 
 standard of Christ. God wills it, for I have received 
 my commission directly from Him. The infidels 
 of the East possess the Holy Land, and they have 
 profaned all that we hold sacred. Nay more, they 
 have for their object the complete overthrow of 
 Christianity, and if we do not at once advance 
 against them, we can look forward to nothing but 
 the destruction of God’s Church, and the horrors of 
 barbarism’s supplanting Christianity in all the 
 world. Moreover we have God’s word for it that 
 we shall be victorious. There is no doubt about the 
 issue. 
 
 “I myself will lead the way. Those who follow 
 me must be prepared to accept with me the fortune 
 of war. Hardships there will be, and bloody fight¬ 
 ing; but hardships are the soldier’s lot, and fighting 
 is his profession. This is to be no mercenary 
 service. It is a free service, a service of love. It is 
 God’s own holy cause. Hunger and thirst, exposure 
 and fatigue, wounds and perhaps death await you 
 on the field. 
 
 “But know this, that our cause is common. It is 
 yours and mine. I will be with you every step of 
 the way, and I will count it an honor to be called 
 the brother in arms of every man in the ranks. You 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 35 
 
 will undergo no danger, suffer no hardship in which 
 I will not have part. On your side I only ask that 
 you dare the same as I dare and endure what I 
 endure. You are to be content with the same food, 
 the same equipment, the same duties as I. And on 
 the field of battle I only ask that you follow where 
 I lead and thus gain for yourselves an equal part 
 with me in the glory and the spoils of victory.” 
 
 What man, thought Ignatius, with a sword at his 
 side and an arm to wield it, would refuse such an 
 offer ! A righteous cause ; a necessary war ; victory 
 assured; and, above all, a leader so disinterested 
 and so lovable: with all these motives to inspire his 
 soul and nerve his arm, who but a recreant knight, 
 a coward unworthy to breathe the same air with 
 true men, could think of any course but instant, 
 whole-hearted assent. Surely the first impulse of 
 the true knight would be to identify himself with 
 such a glorious cause at once, to volunteer on the 
 spot; yes, and to strive by the might of his arm to 
 win a place among the chosen friends of such a 
 leader—to put himself in the front rank, in the 
 king’s own body-guard. 
 
 All that fictitious campaign was very real to 
 Ignatius as he worked it over in his mind in the 
 cave of Manresa. For he applied every detail of it 
 to a true King, One who surpassed any human ruler 
 more than fancy could say. Had not Christ, the 
 eternal King, a great cause at heart, a cause for 
 which He had come down from Heaven to enlist 
 an armv? For that cause He had died on a bloody 
 
 J * 
 
 cross. And His design was to rally every true man 
 to the standard of that cross and thus to spread His 
 kingdom through the whole world. Victory was 
 assured, for He had promised that the forces of 
 evil should not prevail. 
 
36 
 
 Dream of ti-ie Soldier Saint 
 
 And did He not offer the same terms to those who 
 cast their lot with Him? It meant privation, suffer¬ 
 ing, and danger. But in all things He, the Leader, 
 took His share and more. Ah, what could the 
 soldier of Christ suffer that his Leader had not 
 suffered before him? There was not a single pain 
 of body nor pang of soul that He had not felt with 
 an intensity of agony unimaginable to any mere 
 man. He had gone out from the dearest home that 
 this earth ever save, to make known His cause to a 
 bitterly hostile world. Hunger and cold, fatigue, 
 contempt, and violence had been His portion. He 
 had known the weariness of labor, the sting of 
 temptation, the loss of loved ones, the agony of 
 desolation, the shame of public scorn; yes, and the 
 throes of an awful death-agony. But for the shame 
 of sin, the human body could suffer no degradation 
 that He had not suffered; but for remorse of con¬ 
 science, the human soul was not capable of a pain 
 that He had not endured. This was the Brother in 
 Arms of the least of His followers; the Man of 
 Sorrows, walking up and down the highways of 
 Judea, weary and footsore, misunderstood and 
 calumniated. 
 
 He had called for volunteers; and the essence of 
 His service consisted in the hearty good will to 
 imitate Llim: “Sell what thou hast, give to the 
 poor, and come, follow me!” It meant the carrying 
 of a heavy cross; but He had led the way. And 
 victory was assured: “Amen, I say to you, there 
 is no man that hath left house, or parents, or 
 brethren, or wife, or children, for the kingdom of 
 God’s sake, who shall not receive much more in 
 this present time, and in the world to come life 
 everlasting.” 
 
 Who could resist such an appeal? Who so ignoble 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 37 
 
 as to refuse such terms? None, thought Ignatius, 
 but a weak-spirited, miserable coward. To follow 
 Him, the true man would sacrifice all else. The 
 man of any mettle would strive with all his might 
 to gain the first rank in this army. His dearest 
 wish would be to deserve recognition from that 
 Leader by particularly devoted service. He would 
 strive to win a place in the King’s body-guard and 
 there merit the high favor of Christ. 
 
 This was the mold in which the new dream of 
 Ignatius was cast. And he began at once to look 
 about him for followers. A number of the people 
 of Manresa were attracted by the heroic piety he 
 displayed; and often, when he went to visit a 
 neighboring shrine, they gathered about him to 
 hear his exhortations. Though his ardent preaching 
 brought him many disciples, he found none fitted 
 for the Society he had now determined to form. So 
 he resolved to leave Manresa and make his way 
 alone, as a pilgrim, to Jerusalem. 
 
VII 
 
 Any one who reads the life of Saint Ignatius and 
 remembers the main details will always have ready 
 to his lips an answer to the too common statement that 
 extraordinary attention to spiritual things unfits a man 
 for practical affairs. “Saints have no spunk or punch 
 in them,” we hear often enough. “Great piety is all 
 very well behind convent walls or in monastery cells, 
 but it does not fit one to meet every-day men on terms 
 of equality.” 
 
 “Piety” is one of those leveling catchwords that 
 come handy to the tongues of complacent but undis¬ 
 cerning persons who are well content with mediocrity 
 in God’s service. They entertain something like con¬ 
 tempt for the man who practices anything more than 
 the bare essentials of his Faith; and with their airy, 
 cock-sure utterances they often kill out the quickening 
 seeds of self-sacrifice in the hearts of others. Present 
 the life of consecration to the average young person 
 merely as something hard, and he will only find further 
 stimulation in the thought; condemn it with a patron¬ 
 izing smile as the refuge of the spineless and weak- 
 kneed, and he is depressed and unnerved. 
 
 The saints, like Christ, are meek and gentle in dealing 
 with men; but this is strength, not weakness. When 
 occasion calls for it, they show a sublime disregard for 
 human opinion, a courageous assertion of themselves 
 which is a standing rebuke to the world that fears men 
 rather than God. 
 
 In the life of Ignatius we see this union of meekness 
 and lion-hearted courage constantly brought into play. 
 He was destined to meet every variety of opposition 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 39 
 
 in forming the Society he now had in mind. His new 
 dream was to lead him across unsafe seas, through the 
 camps of warring nations and regions stricken with 
 the plague; then back again with many anxious ques¬ 
 tionings of heart, yet always with the firm step of a 
 man who knows his cause is of God. Soon or late in 
 God’s good time he knew he would obtain followers 
 suited to his purpose. For a dream of such glorious 
 promise he could afford to suffer and to wait. 
 
 It is beside our purpose to follow him through all 
 the changing fortunes of those years. But even in a 
 casual and general survey we see how deep and wide 
 he had laid the foundation of that dream. The hardest 
 buffets of fortune only left him the more determined. 
 Yet he was not the unbending, stubborn type of man. 
 Had he been such, his nature would have been soured 
 and his spirit broken. Fie had rather that resilient, 
 adaptable disposition which stands up under severest 
 punishment and, with renewed vigor, returns to the 
 charge after apparent defeat. 
 
 In the early part of the year 1523 he set out for 
 Barcelona, the port for Italy. Here he begged passage 
 on a boat bound for Gaeta. The captain made the one 
 condition that he bring with him sufficient food for 
 the voyage. This stipulation was a hard one for 
 Ignatius. He had purposed to set aside the dictates 
 of human prudence and throw himself entirely on the 
 providence of God. But according to the rule he had 
 now made for himself, he sought direction; after 
 consulting a priest, he complied and procured his 
 provisions by begging. Twenty days passed before the 
 time set for sailing. And in that interval the people of 
 Barcelona found that they were entertaining a Saint. 
 Small entertainment he required beyond their attend¬ 
 ance at the sermons he preached in the streets. He 
 soon had a considerable number of followers, and 
 
40 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 among them was Doha Isabel Roser, a woman who 
 became a great benefactor of the Saint at a later period. 
 After one more fruitless effort to find men fitted for 
 his work, he departed alone. Five days after sailing, 
 he arrived at Gaeta, and from there immediately set 
 out for Rome. 
 
 Fie had trouble enough to make his way, as he was 
 still very weak, and his haggard appearance led those 
 he met with to suspect he was a victim of the plague 
 then breaking out in Italy. But he finally reached 
 Rome on Palm Sunday and, through the influence of 
 some Spaniards he came upon, secured from Pope 
 Adrian VI a passport to Jerusalem and the papal 
 blessing as a pilgrim to the Holy Land. Flis friends 
 tried to induce him to give up the pilgrimage or at 
 least defer it: his health was bad; war and plague made 
 land-travel dangerous; and the seas were scoured by 
 hostile Turkish ships. As these considerations had no 
 effect, they gave him several gold pieces and allowed 
 him to go, assuring him that without the money he 
 could not get passage on shipboard. He accepted the 
 money but, repenting this want of trust in Providence, 
 gave it to the poor as he passed out of the city. 
 
 As before, his weakness made his progress slow. 
 Moreover, he was warned that without a written state¬ 
 ment certifying that he came from districts unvisited 
 by the plague, he would not be allowed to enter Venice. 
 He pushed on, however, trusting in God’s help; and, 
 as if to reward his fidelity, our Lord appeared to him, 
 leaving him consoled and confident. His trust was not 
 misplaced; for, on arriving at Venice in company with 
 other travellers who had secured the certificates 
 demanded, he alone passed in without being challenged. 
 
 That night as he slept on the stone pavement of 
 St. Mark’s piazza, he was found by a certain Mark 
 Antonio Trevassani, a senator and a most devout man, 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 41 
 
 who immediately brought the pilgrim to his palace 
 and provided him with food. During his short stay in 
 Venice he was also assisted by a Spanish merchant 
 who, besides giving him food and lodging, obtained 
 for him free passage on a government ship. On the 
 day of departure, however, he was so ill with fever 
 that a physician told him bluntly that the ship would be 
 his sepulcher. As might have been expected, he did 
 not let this warning stop him; and he recovered his 
 strength soon after sailing. 
 
 Among the passengers and crew he found many 
 rough, vicious characters whose language and behavior 
 roused his impetuous soul. Day in and day out, he 
 spoke his mind to them in plain and vigorous terms, 
 though other Spaniards on board cautioned him to drop 
 the stern apostolate. Soon the objects of his zeal grew 
 to hate his ascetic face and his stinging rebukes. They 
 resolved to rid themselves of the troublesome passenger 
 by leaving him at a desert island which they were to 
 touch in passing. But a contrary wind spoiled the 
 scheme. They missed the island, and Ignatius was 
 with them to Cyprus. From here he embarked on a 
 pilgrim ship which soon landed him safely at Joppa. 
 There he joined a band of other pilgrims and proceeded 
 with them to Jerusalem. 
 
 His whole plan at this time was to remain at Jerusa¬ 
 lem permanently and there form his Society of Jesus 
 for the spread of the honor of God’s Church among 
 the Mohammedans. It was a project well worthy of 
 his aggressive spirit. To him it was a crying shame 
 that the places once honored by the presence of the 
 Incarnate God should now be profaned by the pres¬ 
 ence of unbelievers. Stranger and beggar that he 
 was, did he hope to accomplish with spiritual weap¬ 
 ons what the Christian armies of Europe had so 
 long battled for in vain? If the question occurred 
 
42 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 to him, it did not give him a moment’s pause. But 
 God soon showed him that the Holy City was not 
 to be his battle-ground. 
 
 He had taken up his residence at the Franciscan 
 monastery and had signified to the monks his intention 
 of remaining in the city. One day, however, the Pro¬ 
 vincial summoned him and informed him kindly that 
 he must prepare to depart on the following day. As 
 Jerusalem was at that time a perilous place for Chris¬ 
 tians, the Provincial had been empowered to send them 
 away and even to excommunicate those who refused 
 to leave. Thinking that this measure was proposed 
 merely out of consideration for his own safety, Igna¬ 
 tius at first protested that he desired nothing so much 
 as to suffer for Christ. Then the Provincial men¬ 
 tioned his authority and offered to show him the pon¬ 
 tifical papers. 
 
 Here sounded the knell of the Saint’s dearest hope. 
 Who can say how ardently he had dwelt on that 
 dream? It had become as the breath of his body, 
 and. in an instant it was taken away. In the Pro¬ 
 vincial’s voice he recognized that of God; and, though 
 it must have been with a dead weight of grief in his 
 heart, he bowed his head. He turned away without 
 waiting for the papers to be shown him. The word 
 of authority was enough for the soldier. 
 
VIII 
 
 “What to do?” was the question in the mind of 
 Ignatius as he left the city which he loved for its 
 sacred associations with the Son of God, his King. 
 We cannot doubt that he was saddened by the col¬ 
 lapse of his design, yet there was no thought of giving 
 up. He knew now that Jerusalem was not to be his 
 field of action. But somewhere in the world God 
 would give him opportunity and means to work for 
 His sovereign glory. The time might come when Jeru¬ 
 salem would be open to him; but it was not in his 
 nature to sit down and wait for circumstances to 
 shape themselves to his purpose. 
 
 Evidently the beginning of his work lay in Europe; 
 and during the return voyage he weighed carefully 
 the possibilities which this change of scene presented. 
 One thing his practical mind saw at once. For any 
 effective work in the countries of Europe a solid edu¬ 
 cation was essential. Heresy and schism were assail¬ 
 ing the Church with devilish fury and winning thou¬ 
 sands of souls away from Christ to their unholy cause. 
 To meet these forces on their own ground, scholarly 
 attainments as well as piety and zeal were necessary. 
 Hence, we see our Saint, now thirty-three years of 
 age, calmly making up his mind to go straight to Bar¬ 
 celona and there put himself to school to learn gram¬ 
 mar ! 
 
 The pilgrim ship brought him only as far as Cyprus. 
 Here three vessels bound for Venice lay at anchor 
 in the harbor. One flew the Turkish flag. The other 
 two were Venetian ships: the first, large and strong; 
 the second, small and unseaworthy. The other pil- 
 
44 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 grims secured passage in the stronger ship and begged 
 the captain to admit Ignatius without payment in con¬ 
 sideration of his destitution and his saintliness. The 
 captain, with the spirit of the modern man of means 
 who is constantly prevented from the exercise of char¬ 
 ity by the fear of being imposed upon, answered that 
 if the pilgrim were a Saint, he might walk on the 
 water as Saint James had done. The captain of the 
 smaller ship, however, seems to have been one of those 
 rare individuals who give open-handedly without bur¬ 
 dening their consciences with too many questions 
 about the recipient’s possible unworthiness. From him 
 Ignatius obtained free passage. Perhaps the worthy, 
 captain thought the presence of a Saint might bring 
 blessings on his voyage. If so, his faith was soon 
 justified. 
 
 The three ships cleared the harbor with a favorable 
 wind and all indications of fair weather. Before night 
 came down, however, a violent storm arose; and 
 though the battered and leaky boat which bore Igna¬ 
 tius weathered the gale and reached Venice in safety, 
 both of the other ships were dashed to pieces on the 
 coast of Cyprus. 
 
 From Venice Ignatius set out like a common beg¬ 
 gar for Genoa; and he kept to the main highroad 
 though this led him through the warring armies of 
 France and Spain. Fie was twice arrested as a spy 
 and, in the first instance, suffered rough treatment 
 before his release. At last he arrived safely at Genoa 
 and immediately secured passage on a ship bound for 
 Barcelona, the captain being an old friend of his 
 court days in Spain. 
 
 At Barcelona he was offered free tuition by a cer¬ 
 tain pious schoolmaster named Jerome Ardebal, while 
 the Lady Isabel Roser and others who had been won 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 45 
 
 to him by his gentle sanctity gladly provided for his 
 necessities. 
 
 He now gave his best attention to the hard dry prin¬ 
 ciples of Latin grammar. Though little is said by his 
 biographers about this period, it was certainly not the 
 least heroic part of his struggle. Most boys can ap¬ 
 preciate his position. Here was a man who had made 
 his mark in the world, whose whole life had been one 
 of intense and multiplied activities, taking his place 
 with mere striplings and experiencing day after day 
 the tedious round of study and recitation like any 
 schoolboy. But he had learned to ignore natural feel¬ 
 ing. Though he had uncommon difficulties from the 
 start, his determination carried him through. He had 
 his eye on one great object. 
 
 While here, he kept to his rigorous rule as far as 
 his studies would permit and devoted what time he 
 could spare to preaching and instruction. As usual, 
 this course brought him the devoted admiration of 
 the good and the equally devoted hatred of the bad. 
 And this continued at Alcala, whither he went in 1526 
 to take up his course in philosophy. Here the busy- 
 bodies were not content with despising him for living 
 as a mendicant when he could find means of support 
 in other ways. It was his apostolate that worried 
 them. What business had a student of philosophy to 
 explain Christian Doctrine to the people and draw 
 such numbers after him? He had brought a few 
 disciples with him from Barcelona and was adding 
 others here. These made themselves conspicuous, so 
 the critics said, by wearing the same kind of dress, 
 as if they were duly constituted Religious. 
 
 So they were denounced as “Illuminati” to the In¬ 
 quisition, and officials of that body delegated the Vicar 
 Figueroa to look into the case. 
 
46 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 There were at this time so many forms of heresy 
 rampant that anything unusual in matters touching the 
 Faith was looked upon with suspicion. The Inquisi¬ 
 tion was constantly invoked to examine into new 
 practices and suppress abuses. We must not wonder 
 that Ignatius, Saint though he was, was misunder¬ 
 stood and violently opposed in his own country by 
 men whose zeal for the interests of the Church can 
 not fairly be questioned. These men did not and 
 could not know Ignatius as we know him. His sin¬ 
 cerity of purpose and his holiness must have been 
 apparent to all who dealt with him. Yet he came as 
 the herald of a new movement at a time when every 
 heresy adopted the disguise of zeal. Ignatius under¬ 
 stood the position of the Inquisitors. He knew the 
 worth of his project and knew that it could stand the 
 test of fair examination. He dealt with the tribunal 
 in an open, businesslike way, always submissive, yet 
 always firm and confident. And in the end this course 
 brought glory to his cause. To us there may be an 
 appearance of harshness and unfairness in the re¬ 
 peated trials to which he was forced to submit. But 
 at that time strong measures were required, and it 
 was inevitable that the innocent should at times suffer 
 on account of conditions which made prompt and 
 rigorous action a necessity. 
 
 Twice within four months Ignatius was called upon 
 to explain his methods and plans, but no error was 
 found in his doctrine or manner of life. The Vicar, 
 however, bade them discontinue the custom of wear¬ 
 ing a particular dress, and he was promptly obeyed. 
 
 Four months after the second trial Ignatius was 
 arrested and committed to prison where he remained 
 seventeen days before any summons was issued. As 
 visitors were freely admitted, he had daily opportunity 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 47 
 
 of imparting his fervent instructions. Figueroa made 
 another careful investigation and at last released Igna¬ 
 tius, making the one condition that he and his com¬ 
 panions do no further preaching on the truths of 
 faith until they had completed four more years of 
 study. Ignatius, saddened by the thought of giving 
 up a work he loved so well, sought counsel of the 
 Archbishop of Toledo. From him he learned that 
 the prohibition was binding only while he remained 
 at Alcala. After some deliberation he determined to 
 leave the city and continue his studies at Salamanca. 
 Accordingly, some time in the latter half of 1527, he 
 set out for that place, whither four of his companions 
 had already gone. 
 
 But before he had been two weeks in Salamanca, 
 he was again called upon for explanations. The whole 
 band was committed to prison, and for a short time 
 Ignatius and one of his companions were kept in 
 chains. He submitted all his writings to the judges 
 and, in an examination conducted by professors of 
 theology, gave clear and exact answers to the most 
 difficult questions. When he was explaining the “Spir¬ 
 itual Fxercises,” the judges began to urge difficulties. 
 “What T have said is either true or false,” was the 
 irresistible answer, “if false, condemn it.” No con¬ 
 demnation followed, and a few days later they were 
 allowed to go free. 
 
 What puzzled the judges was the fact that a man 
 who had not completed his studies was so well ac¬ 
 quainted with the doctrines of the Church and the 
 mysteries of the spiritual life. It was not given them 
 to know of the revelations of Manresa. Hence 
 the seeming inconsistency of their decision in the case. 
 They could not condemn Ignatius, yet they felt that 
 it would be imprudent to give him full liberty to 
 preach. So they made the condition that he and 
 
48 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 his companions should not undertake any explana¬ 
 tion of the distinction between mortal and venial sin. 
 
 Ignatius saw at once that this prohibition would 
 prevent anything like effective work for souls. Prisons 
 had no terrors for him: “For the love of Jesus Christ/’ 
 he had exclaimed, “I would gladly wear all the hand¬ 
 cuffs and chains of Salamanca.” But personal free¬ 
 dom without freedom to work for his King was intol¬ 
 erable. After much prayer and consideration he de¬ 
 cided to quit Salamanca. Fie took leave of his com¬ 
 panions, none of whom was ever to rejoin him, and, 
 late in the year 1527, set out on foot for Paris. 
 
IX 
 
 What Palestine and his own native land had re¬ 
 fused him, Ignatius was to find in Paris. But only 
 after years of violent opposition and trials of every 
 kind was he to see there the beginnings of success. 
 He was to meet much the same difficulties and en¬ 
 dure much the same rough treatment he had experi¬ 
 enced in the Spanish cities. 
 
 Soon after his arrival he found opportunity to give 
 the Spiritual Exercises to three fervent disciples, two 
 of whom were men of distinction in the University. 
 As we might expect, this meant new troubles. These 
 men immediately took up the manner of life that 
 Ignatius followed, and, of course, their friends be¬ 
 came very much alarmed. Complaints were lodged 
 with the Inquisitors, but Ignatius was not called upon 
 to appear. However, the end was not yet. 
 
 To understand the situation, we must remember 
 that Paris was at this time a center of freethinking, 
 humanistic influences. Many of the professors of the 
 University, intent only on keeping abreast of the 
 popular trend, ignored, if they did not discourage, all 
 moral and religious instruction. Hence the chosen 
 work of Ignatius was destined to bring him anything 
 but popularity. Yet the students listened to him, and 
 his instructions had such effect that some of the pro¬ 
 fessors began to entertain the bitterest feelings 
 towards him. Certain academic exercises that were 
 given on Sunday mornings began to fall off in attend¬ 
 ance; for the students were following Ignatius’s ex¬ 
 hortations to practice more devotions on Sunday. 
 
 One of the professors made complaint to Govea, 
 
50 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 the principal of the college, and the latter sentenced 
 Ignatius to a public hogging. This, though a mere 
 matter of form which caused little pain to the vic¬ 
 tim, was considered a deep disgrace; and Ignatius, 
 with an eye to the results this disgrace would have 
 on his work, decided to protest against it. Gladly 
 would he have borne the humiliation for Christ’s sweet 
 sake, but he felt that the proceeding would have a 
 permanently bad effect on his apostolate. He went 
 to Govea and told him plainly that he was ready to 
 suffer this and more for the King for whom he had 
 already borne imprisonment and chains; but that it 
 was unfair on the principal’s part to destroy his power 
 for leading men to God, when his only offense was 
 that he had tried to impress others with the beauty 
 and truth of supernatural things. The result was 
 that Ignatius, instead of being disgraced, was publicly 
 vindicated. For the honest Govea, at the end of the 
 appeal, led our Saint into the hall where all were 
 assembled, and there made a handsome apology. The 
 students who had gathered to witness his humiliation 
 saw him praised to his face as a man of God, and 
 that by one who had authority in the University. And 
 when Govea ended the eulogy by dropping on his 
 knees before Ignatius, their respect for the saintly 
 beggar was increased a hundred-fold. 
 
 Other trials he had which did not end so happily, 
 but in general his apostolate was attended with less 
 difficulty than in Spain. 
 
 His first year he devoted to the classics, as he felt 
 he needed better foundation before going on to higher 
 studies. In October, 1529, he took up philosophy in 
 the College Sainte Barbe; and here he met the men 
 who were to become his first companions in the Com¬ 
 pany of Jesus. The first of all was Peter Faber, a 
 native of Savoy, who shared his room. This brilliant 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 51 
 
 and pious youth, with his tender conscience and warm 
 heart, became much attached to Ignatius; and when 
 at last the great plan was confided to him, he entered 
 into it with enthusiasm. 
 
 Next there came within the sphere of Ignatius's 
 influence a man who was destined to confer everlast¬ 
 ing glory on the new Society, the strong-souled Fran¬ 
 cis Xavier. But Ignatius did not find this high-born 
 Spaniard an easy conquest. Xavier was lecturing 
 at the time on Aristotle, and his unusual talents were 
 widely talked of. This success he looked upon only 
 as a beginning; for his whole ambition was to make a 
 name for himself among the world’s men of learning. 
 He had his share of intellectual pride, and the lowli¬ 
 ness of Ignatius was at first altogether unintelligible 
 to him. But Ignatius knew his man. He too was 
 a Spaniard and a dreamer. He had once responded 
 as heartily to the appeal of fame on the field as did 
 Xavier to the appeal of intellectual renown. Hence 
 he carefully studied his method of approach to one 
 in whom he recognized great possibilities. He showed 
 a lively concern in the work of Xavier and promoted 
 his interests in every possible way. Xavier soon be¬ 
 gan to see that this beggar was a man of generous 
 sentiments, independent thought, and vigorous spirit. 
 The first defenses were down ; and Ignatius, using the 
 weapons he knew so well, laid compelling siege to that 
 ambitious heart. “What doth it profit a man if he 
 gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” was the 
 question he put before his high-minded fellow coun¬ 
 tryman each time they met. The thought worked its 
 way into the soul of Xavier, and finally it battered 
 down the foundations of the old dream. He sur¬ 
 rendered to the grace of God, and Ignatius had a dis¬ 
 ciple after his own heart. 
 
 Up from Spain came James Lainez and Alphonsus 
 
52 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 Salmeron, men well advanced in philosophy and the 
 classics, and bent on seeking out Ignatius to put them¬ 
 selves under his direction; for he had left a name for 
 sanctity behind him in his native land. They passed 
 through the Spiritual Exercises and identified them¬ 
 selves with the cause. The next to be enlisted were 
 Nicholas Bobadilla, also a Spaniard, and Simon Rod¬ 
 riguez. a Portuguese of noble birth. 
 
 Here Ignatius had his Society of Jesus, or “Com¬ 
 pany” of Jesus, as he loved to call it in imitation of 
 that small division of the Spanish army. Though his 
 field of labor was not yet known to him, he was sure 
 that work would be provided. His heart still yearned 
 for the Holy Land. To Jerusalem, if it were at all 
 possible, he would lead his men. If they could not 
 remain there, they might at least make a pilgrimage 
 of preparation. 
 
 In July, 1534, he brought the seven together and 
 outlined his plan, so far as it had taken shape in his 
 mind. On the feast of the Assumption of the Blessed 
 Virgin they gathered in the chapel of Our Lady of 
 Montmartre to make their first solemn pledge. Faber, 
 the only one yet ordained, celebrated the Mass. The 
 rest, before receiving Communion, knelt before him, as 
 he held the Body of Christ, and vowed to observe per¬ 
 petual poverty and chastity; to go to the Holy Land 
 if possible; and, if prevented, to place themselves en¬ 
 tirely at the disposal of Christ’s Vicar on earth. 
 
 The dream of Ignatius had borne its first fruit. Not 
 one of those generous recruits but kept his pledge till 
 death and proved himself a true knight of God. We 
 wonder if Heaven sent him on that day any intimation 
 of the profound significance of that ceremony. For 
 the Church had sore need of champions such as they. 
 In that same year Henry VIII of England threw off 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 53 
 
 finally all allegiance to the Church of his fathers. In 
 that same year Martin Luther published his transla¬ 
 tion of the Bible and increased his followers by thou¬ 
 sands. The Church was assailed by traitors from 
 within and whole empires from without; everywhere 
 the indifference and the self-love of men left the inter¬ 
 ests of Christ at the mercy of His enemies. And this 
 small army was to meet full-front that world of oppo¬ 
 sition, intrenched though it was behind the battle¬ 
 ments of political intrigue and royal authority. Yet 
 a few years, and this poor little company was to strike 
 terror into the foes of God and rekindle the spark of 
 faith in a cold-hearted generation. Nay more, it war. 
 to brave the perils of the Indian Ocean to plant the 
 standard of Christ in far eastern lands and rally be¬ 
 neath that standard nations yet wandering in the night 
 of ignorance. All this the captain of that band was 
 to see before his death. The whole plan was not yet 
 given to him; yet we cannot but feel that on that 
 morning his wrapt soul, so attuned to the designs of 
 God, caught some prophetic foretaste of the glories 
 to be won. 
 
X 
 
 With a definite end before them and a new incen¬ 
 tive for their best efforts the members of the new 
 Society went back to their theological studies, in which 
 they soon attracted attention by the thoroughness of 
 their work. As yet there was no community life, but 
 they held frequent meetings which solidified their 
 union and strengthened their determination. And on 
 each anniversary of their first vows they again assem¬ 
 bled at Montmartre to renew the pledge. Soon three 
 new candidates presented themselves and were event¬ 
 ually added to the Society. They were Claude Le Jay, 
 John Cod ure, and Paschase Broet. 
 
 It was agreed that all should remain at Paris until 
 their course in theology was completed. But Ignatius 
 himself returned to Spain in 1535. His health was 
 wretched, and the physicians assured him that it could 
 be bettered only by a return to his native climate. 
 Probably this consideration alone would not have had 
 much influence with him, but some of his companions 
 wished him to settle their business affairs in that coun¬ 
 try. Their relatives might be counted on to make some 
 resistance to their renunciation, and they felt that 
 Ignatius was the man best fitted to explain the situa¬ 
 tion. It was a rather delicate mission for the one 
 who had induced them to make the sacrifice, but he 
 undertook it without hesitation. 
 
 The day before his departure he learned that the 
 orthodoxy of his teaching had been called into ques¬ 
 tion and that an accusation to that effect had been 
 laid before the local Inquisitor. Without waiting to 
 
Dkeam of the Soldier Saint 
 
 55 
 
 be summoned, he presented himself before that official. 
 The Inquisitor informed him that the charge was with¬ 
 out sufficient grounds. He was curious, however, 
 about the “Exercises.” A copy was handed him, and 
 it pleased him so much that he asked to keep it. But 
 Ignatius demanded a written statement of his inno¬ 
 cence. He had learned a lesson from previous experi¬ 
 ences, and he wanted to be sure that his companions 
 would not be arraigned on false charges during his 
 absence. So he brought a notary to the office of the 
 Inquisitor and had a document drawn up duly attest¬ 
 ing the orthodoxy of his works and writings. After 
 taking this precaution, he set off for his native land. 
 
 On his arrival at his own town of Azpeytia his 
 brother tried to induce him to lodge at his old home. 
 But Ignatius stayed at the public hospital and lived by 
 begging in the streets. He started a daily Catechism 
 class for children and soon had a number of adults 
 among his listeners. His own brother, who had at 
 first tried to discourage him in this work, became a 
 regular attendant. On Sundays he preached to thou¬ 
 sands; for he was being talked of, and people trav¬ 
 elled miles to hear him. Here too he showed him¬ 
 self something of a “social worker.” He had an 
 ordinance passed forbidding gambling and other preva¬ 
 lent abuses, obtained relief for the poor at public 
 expense, and revived the pious old custom of having 
 the Angelus rung three times daily. 
 
 After three months at Azpeytia his health was in 
 some degree restored. He prepared to leave the town 
 and attend to the affairs of his companions. His brother 
 provided him with a horse and an escort, and insisted 
 that he accept them, at least to the boundary of the 
 province. Beyond that point Ignatius firmly declined 
 any assistance, but travelled on foot and begged his 
 way. 
 
56 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 After visiting several towns and disposing of the 
 commissions entrusted to him, he reached Valencia 
 and embarked for Genoa. The ship encountered a 
 violent storm, but finally reached Genoa in safety, 
 and Ignatius started at once for Venice. He lost his 
 way on the pathless heights of the Apennines and 
 was forced to creep on hands and knees along the bor¬ 
 ders of a precipice, where he was in imminent peril 
 of falling to his death. As he approached Bologna, 
 he slipped from a narrow bridge into a muddy ditch, 
 and entered the town in such sorry condition that 
 the loungers shrieked with laughter. Truly he was 
 paying heavily for his dream. 
 
 With all his bad fortune, he pushed on and reached 
 Venice some time in the latter part of 1535. Here 
 he resumed his theological studies and, during his 
 spare time, preached to the people. Before his com¬ 
 panions rejoined him, the “Exercises” had won for 
 him three more recruits. They were Diego and Esta- 
 ban d’Eguia, and Diego Hozes. 
 
 Here, in the beginning of 1537, his faithful band 
 came to him. They had had a rough time of it in 
 their long tramp from Paris. They were forced to 
 pass through the armies of France; they had incurred 
 the displeasure of ecclesiastics; and some of them had 
 fallen sick. But all this was part of the service, and 
 it was with undiminished enthusiasm that they rejoined 
 their Founder. They established themselves in the 
 hospitals of the city and devoted all their energies to 
 charitable works, attending the sick and instructing the 
 people. 
 
 In the early soring all but Ignatius set out for Rome 
 to obtain the Pope’s permission to go to the Holy 
 Land and remain there to preach the Gospel. Igna¬ 
 tius stayed in Venice because there were at Rome 
 certain influential persons who had opposed him in 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 Paris, and be feared that his presence with the party 
 would only prejudice the cause he had so much at 
 
 heart. 
 
 The great Paul III received the pilgrims kindly and 
 made no difficulty about the permission. But he ex¬ 
 pressed his doubts about the possibility of a voyage to 
 the East. He was much impressed with their learning 
 and humility; and he gave them fifty crowns for their 
 pilgrimage. They also received permission to be 
 ordained by any Bishop, and their vow of poverty was 
 officially recognized. 
 
 They returned to Ignatius and their chosen labors. 
 On the feast of Saint John Baptist, Ignatius, with 
 six of his companions, received Holy Orders. Our 
 Saint, however, did not celebrate Mass until Christmas 
 Day, 1538, eighteen months after his ordination. His 
 humility and his consciousness of the tremendous dig¬ 
 nity conferred by the Sacrament prompted this ex¬ 
 tended delay. 
 
 As the Turkish War made their pilgrimage impos¬ 
 sible for the present, they decided to remain at Ven¬ 
 ice for a year, in the hope that their cherished project 
 might be realized. At the end of that time, if pro¬ 
 hibitory conditions still obtained, they would take it 
 as a manifestation of God’s will and offer themselves 
 to the Pope for what services they could render. 
 Meanwhile, they gave their time to preaching; though 
 most of them spoke very bad Italian, the work resulted 
 in many conversions—and the inevitable opposition of 
 alarmists. The Nuncio at Venice examined into their 
 credentials and manner of life, but found nothing de¬ 
 serving of censure. Again Ignatius insisted on and 
 obtained a written attestation of the falsity of the 
 charges. 
 
 The year passed, and still there was no chance of 
 
58 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 embarking for the East. Relinquishing forever the 
 dear hope of carrying Christ’s message to the infidels 
 and of leaving his bones on his King’s own battle¬ 
 field, Ignatius took Laynez and Faber as companions 
 and started for Rome. 
 
 A few miles from the city the travellers entered a 
 wayside chapel at La Storta to pray. There Ignatius 
 knelt and threw his whole soul into a petition for the 
 success of his cause. He was about to ask for the 
 recognition of his army, and the outlook was hope¬ 
 less enough. The spread of various forms of heresy 
 had put the authorities of the Church on their guard, 
 and strong opposition could be expected. Though our 
 Saint’s confidence in God was surely as firm as ever, 
 he must have been greatly troubled in mind as he 
 neared Rome. But there at La Storta, as he knelt in 
 prayer, his King brought him comfort and assurance. 
 Christ appeared to him, carrying His cross and saying, 
 “I will be favorable to you at Rome.” 
 
 On towards Rome he went with unspeakable joy in 
 his heart. Lie did not know just what the vision 
 meant. But it drove out all misgivings. Perhaps— 
 ah, how devoutly he wished it might be—perhaps it 
 meant martyrdom! 
 
 They were graciously received by the Pope, and soon 
 after their arrival Faber and Laynez were appointed 
 public lecturers at the University of the Sapienza, 
 while Ignatius received permission to give the Spir¬ 
 itual Exercise in public. After four months he sent 
 for the rest of his companions and obtained permis¬ 
 sion for all to preach and hear confessions in the 
 city. Here the old difficulties began. They were ac¬ 
 cused of heresy, and the report was spread that they 
 had been driven out of Spain and France. Official 
 examinations, however, not only cleared their name. 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 59 
 
 but increased their reputation for sanctity and learn¬ 
 ing. 
 
 This is not the place to consider the various trials 
 and triumphs of Ignatius and his men before they were 
 duly constituted as a religious Order in the year 1540. 
 Months of consideration and prayer preceded the ap¬ 
 plication. But they saw that solid union and formal 
 recognition were necessary for the permanence of their 
 work. Accordingly, constitutions were drawn up and 
 submitted to the Pope. “The finger of God is here!” 
 exclaimed Paul after his examination of the docu¬ 
 ment. and he warmly approved of the Order. At first 
 the Cardinals were against the project. But Ignatius 
 offered prayers and Masses for the success of his 
 cause, and finally, without giving any reason for their 
 change of front, the Cardinals dropped their opposi¬ 
 tion. On September 27, 1540, the Society was con¬ 
 firmed as a religious order by the Bull, “Regimini 
 mil it antis Ecclesiae 
 
XI 
 
 Our story is nearly told. Though the sixteen years 
 that yet remained to Ignatius were in many respects 
 more interesting and instructive than those we have 
 seen, the history of them is not to our purpose in 
 this short study. With the establishment of the Soci¬ 
 ety of Jesus his dream was realized. It only remains 
 for us to sketch the splendid results. 
 
 From the beginning the little army met with many 
 difficulties; but, by the favor of God and the valor of 
 its men, it triumphed over all and soon became con¬ 
 spicuous for its defense of the Faith and its efficiency 
 in the winning of souls to Christ. At the Council 
 of Trent, Laynez and Salmeron, as theologians of the 
 Pope, excited the wonder of the greatest dignitaries 
 of the Church by their extraordinary ability, and thus 
 the whole Catholic world came to know something of 
 the Society. In an incredibly short time Ignatius had 
 placed in every country of Europe men who battled 
 like giants with the leaders of the Reformation. 
 Francis Xavier swept across the Indies and through 
 distant Japan, leaving behind him more than a mil¬ 
 lion converts to Christ; and he died on the desert 
 island of San Chian within sight of China, the for¬ 
 bidden land which he had determined to evangelize. 
 
 Ignatius, much against his will, had been chosen 
 General of the newly founded Order; and until his 
 death in 1556 he combined in that office the prudence 
 and skill of a trained military commander with the 
 gentleness of a loving father. The soldierly ideal, 
 fused in the dream of his youth, was worked into the 
 very soul of the Society. Obedience was to be the 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 61 
 
 shining virtue of his sons; not the servile submission 
 of fear or policy, but the ready and constant will to 
 follow the least word of the superior as the manifes¬ 
 tation of the will of God Himself. They were to con¬ 
 stitute a light-armed brigade, an advance guard of 
 the army of Christ; and from the day of their begin¬ 
 ning they have justified their trust and won glory 
 to the Soldier-Saint who organized them and to the 
 Church which accepted their allegiance. 
 
 Ignatius prayed that trial and persecution might be 
 the lot of his soldiers, and the history of three stormy 
 centuries shows how that prayer has been heard. “The 
 servant is not greater than his master,” and the mem¬ 
 bers of that body-guard of Christ have been privileged 
 to suffer from secret intrigue and open violence in 
 every part of the world for the name of Jesus which 
 they bear. They have fought steadily on until to-day 
 their roll-call numbers over sixteen thousand men, who 
 still maintain in Christian and Pagan lands the tra¬ 
 ditions, the ideals, and the lofty spirit of the brave 
 Spanish soldier whose device they bear upon their 
 shield, and whose one single aim inspires their hearts 
 of fire: “To do all for the greater glory of God.” 
 
 The life of every saint is an unusual life, and per¬ 
 haps that of Ignatius is unusual even among saints. 
 Yet how many points of contact it has with our own. 
 Few men in all history were called to such a mission 
 as his; yet each has his place in the designs of God; 
 each in his appointed place is expected to do what lies 
 in him for his own salvation and the glory of God; 
 and it is very important that he find that place in time. 
 Few, even of those called to a life of high consecra¬ 
 tion, are favored in the beginning, as Ignatius was, 
 by clear manifestations of God’s wish concerning them. 
 Yet we must remember that for long years he too 
 was left in the dark about many things. And this 
 
62 
 
 Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 much we learn from his conduct through those years 
 —that an honest attitude, prayer, and submission to 
 the direction of God or His representatives will lead 
 one aright. 
 
 Whatever be our destined work, it probably lies 
 on a lower level than his. Great sanctity may not be 
 expected of us. Yet happy for us if we make it our 
 ideal. Happy for us if we find it in our hearts to 
 repeat the sentiment inspired in him when he read 
 of saintly lives: “He has done this, why not I ?” 
 We may fall far short of his sanctity; yet sanctity 
 in some degree we must have, not visions or miracles 
 —not necessarily a life consecrated to God—but at 
 least that degree of holiness which will insure us His 
 abiding friendship. No man can ever see God un¬ 
 less he sanctifies himself. Each one, according to the 
 measure of graces given him, is meant to take a share 
 in the work that is being done for God, whether in 
 the cloister, the sanctuary, or the world. He can re¬ 
 fuse, and perhaps the work will be done without him; 
 but even so, he has missed a glorious chance, and he 
 is very apt to find life a burden elsewhere. 
 
 Those too who have found their place in the world 
 will learn from the life of Ignatius to drive right on 
 to the goal with aggressive confidence and strength of 
 purpose, no coward fear and no look backward. Like 
 him, they may experience the same weariness of soul 
 and uncertainty as to the future; enemies may perse¬ 
 cute, and well-meaning but worldly friends may try 
 to discourage them; the same attraction to things of 
 earth may harass them through their days and nights, 
 and their hearts may be sick with the sense of coming 
 defeat. May the thought of Ignatius stimulate them 
 to renewed exertion. 
 
 On the battle-fields of Spain and on his bed of suf- 
 
Dream of the Soldier Saint 
 
 63 
 
 fering we see the martial virtues that made him loved 
 of God ; and they are worth considering and imitat¬ 
 ing in this age which fears physical pain as the only 
 evil. In the cave of Manresa, in the prison cells of 
 Alcala and Salamanca, in the varied persecutions of 
 his Paris days and after, we have an example of heroic 
 fortitude, at once the effect of divine favors and the 
 cause of further ones; and if we can only catch a 
 little of the spirit that animated him, it will happily 
 be a whip to our backs, a rebuke to our tepidity and 
 sloth, an inspiration to take up our cross and bear it 
 after Jesus with thankfulness and joy-