Chapter VIII: A New Form of "The Crusade."

We find Father Ignatius, at the beginning of the year 1851, begging in Ireland. It was not his custom to go regularly from house to house; he preferred collecting people together, and addressing them, and, if this were not practicable, getting permission from the priests to speak to their flocks on Sundays and festivals. He wanted prayers more than money, and he was delighted that the plea of begging justified his moving about, and gave him a kind of faculty to preach on his favourite topic, "the conversion of England." Oftentimes the spiritual interfered with his temporal interests, as when an Irishman, who was about to give him an alms, refused it as soon as he spoke about England. Strange enough, Father Ignatius thought England-hating Irishmen the very best subjects to practise his art of persuasion on. He thought them true souls, sensitive of their wrongs, and valued them far more than those who lauded England through lack of patriotism.

He met many adventures during this begging tour in Ireland. In one parish, the priest promised to allow him to preach to his congregation on the Sunday, and collect from them. The priest did not seem to possess indifference to earthly things, or generosity either, in a very high degree; for, when Father Ignatius came to his place on Saturday, his reverence told him that he intended to claim the collection in the church, whilst Father Ignatius might stand at the door and beg for himself as the people were going out. Father Ignatius thanked God, and was content, only remarking that, with the priest's permission, he would prefer {401} to hold his hat under a large tree that grew near the church-door, instead of at the door itself.

He preached at the last mass, and never said a word about where or when he was to receive the people's offerings; the collection was made by the priest, and a most miserable one it proved to be. Father Ignatius held his hat under the tree, and, since the day in Carrick-on-Suir, never had such a collection. It was a marvel to him; he could not account for it, and he was the more surprised when he compared notes with the parish priest after all was over. He found out the solution of the mystery that same evening. It seems that, on Saturday, he told a respectable lady in the neighbourhood of the priest's decision. She, without telling him a word of what she intended doing, went home, sent her servant through the village, and collected twelve stalwart active young men; she harangued them on what the priest was about to do, and sent them all off to different parts of the parish to tell the people of it, and also of the spot where Father Ignatius would receive their offerings. The people had reason to think their pastor was a little fond of money, and their indignation at his proceeding helped to increase their liberality.

He begged at this time in Borris O'Kane, Limerick, Ennis, Gort, Galway, Loughren, Ballinasloe, Mullingar, and preached 101 sermons since the previous 5th September. His begging tour ends in Dublin, about March, where he begins a new campaign of what he terms "his crusade."

He preached some controversial lectures in Dublin, dined and talked with Dissenting ministers, wrote a little newspaper controversy, and had a meeting in the Rotundo. This very active kind of work did not seem to suit his taste or spirit, and he changed very soon to another and a more congenial one--the conversational mode of advancing the Catholic cause.

He visited the leading men both in the Establishment and in the offices of State, and the conferences he held with them are so interesting that we shall relate a few of them in his own words. The extracts are taken from letters {402} published by him in 1853, in the _Catholic Standard_, now _The Weekly Register_:--

_Interview with Lord John Russell._

One day early in February, 1850, I had been on an expedition down to
Westminster. I look back on all my walks during a certain period,
that is, while I was constantly wearing my Passionist habit, as
_expeditions_. Indeed they were eventful ones in their way. I was
returning through Parliament Street; and having an hour to dispose
of, as I passed by Downing Street, I thought I would now try, what I
had long thought of, to have a conversation with the Premier. I
asked, "Is Lord John Russell at home?" The messenger [query?] who
came to the door looked at my figure with some surprise, then said,
"Yes, sir, but he is engaged at present?" I said, "Will you be so
good as to say to him that Lord Spencer's brother would wish to
speak with him?" "Walk in, sir," he answered; and to my surprise, I
must say, I found myself at once in a waiting-room, and five minutes
later was introduced to Lord John. He rose to me, and kindly pointed
to a chair. I said, "Do you remember me, my Lord?" "Oh, yes," he
answered. I then proceeded: "I hardly know whether what I am now
doing is wise or not; but I will explain my reason for asking to see
your lordship and you will judge. You are aware, probably, that it
is now some twenty years since I became a Catholic. Ever since that
time, my whole mind has been bent on leading others to the same
faith, and, in short, on the conversion of this country to
Catholicity. For this end I have endeavoured, as far as it was
possible, to move all Catholics throughout the world to pray for the
conversion of England. I have also spoken with as many as I could of
the leading men among the clergy of the Church of England and among
Dissenting ministers, to move them also to pray that God would bring
this country to unity in the truth wherever he sees it to be. I am
almost always received agreeably on these occasions; for all seem to
agree in what I think cannot be denied, that if there is anything
which {403} threatens ruin to the power and prosperity of this
country it is our religious divisions." His lordship here, without
speaking, intimated, as I understood, his assent to this last
sentence; but interrupted me by asking more particularly: "What do
you propose to Dissenters?" "The same," I said, "as to Anglicans; I
conceive this prayer is proper for them all alike." ... I proceeded:
"Among Catholics I find myself constantly met by the objection, that
if they came forward openly, as I wish them to do, it would offend
those in power in England. I answer them, I am convinced it would
not; but in order to satisfy others rather than myself, I have at
last thought it well to come to the first authority and ask. I will
remark to your lordship why I say this. Among all Catholics, I am
particularly intent on moving the Catholics of Ireland to undertake
this cause. I first went to Ireland for the purpose in 1842. Now I
look upon it as certain, that if the Irish had then undertaken, as I
wished them, to pray for the conversion of England, and had
persevered in that work out of charity, they would not, in 1848,
have thought of making pikes against England; and this would have
saved our Government some millions of pounds, perhaps. Pikes are
well enough in their place, but I consider that charity would not
have prompted the making of them on this occasion. Again, I will say
that my favourite individual object in Ireland is to enlist in my
cause your lordship's illustrious correspondent, Dr. M'Hale; and it
is my opinion that it would improve the style of his letters if
there were introduced into them some expressions of charity towards
England." Lord John slightly smiled, and then proceeded with his
answer, as follows: "In answering you, I beg to be understood that I
do not speak as a minister; but I will tell what I think as an
individual. The entire liberty which exists in this country for
every one to think as he pleases, and to speak what he thinks, makes
it appear to me difficult to conceive how a reunion of all the
different religious opinions could be effected. That is at least a
distant prospect. But anything which would tend to a diminution of
the spirit of acrimony, and of the disposition of people of opposite
opinions to misrepresent one another's views, must {404} do good."
Then he added, in a very pleasing tone: "And I will tell you, that I
consider the body to which you belong is the one which suffers the
most from such misrepresentations." I said then: "After hearing your
lordship's answer, given with such kindness, I am quite happy at
having come; and I think I may infer from what you have said, that
you perfectly approve of my proceedings, for the tendency of them
entirely is to remove the misapprehensions which exist, on both
sides, of the others principles. I am convinced that Catholics
generally have a mistaken idea of what respectable Protestants are;
and there is no doubt Protestants are very widely wrong in their
opinions of Catholics. I am working to counteract this error on both
sides."

To this he did not reply; and as I had gained all that I desired, I
rose to take my leave, and said: "I frequently say to persons with
whom I have had conversations like this, what I will now say to your
lordship, that I do not promise secrecy concerning them; but I
request, as a favour, that if they should ever hear of my making
what they consider an improper use of anything that they have said,
they would call me to account for it." On this sentence, likewise,
he made no remark, but added again: "I repeat once more that I have
not spoken as a minister, as I do not think this is a matter with
which I have any concern in that character." I replied: "I
understand you, my Lord; yet I will say that it appears to me, that
I have reasons to have addressed your lordship in your public
character." His lordship smiled, slightly bowed, and I withdrew.

_Interview with Lord Clarendon._

I am very happy at finding myself with my pen in hand, to give an
account of my interviews with another distinguished member of our
Government; at least, as far as what passed bears on the subject of
these letters, the enterprise of England's conversion:--I mean Lord
Clarendon, while he was Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. His lordship and
I were formerly fellow-collegians and friends at Cambridge; {405}
but from the year 1819, when I left Trinity College, we never saw
each other till November 13, 1850, when I had an audience from him
at the Viceregal Lodge in the Phoenix Park, at Dublin. When I had
been in Ireland in 1848, the thought had crossed my mind that I
should be pleased to have a conversation with him, but I put it away
as a strange idea, not worth entertaining. In 1850, I returned to
Ireland, and starting from the Synod of Thurles, at the beginning of
September, I had what I would call my grand campaign among the Irish
people. From the beginning of September to the end of April, I
preached 170 sermons to them on the enterprise of the conversion of
England, which at that time I used to call the _Crusade for
England_; besides a number, past reckoning, of addresses to convents
and schools, and private conversations to the same intent. This
career was interrupted in the middle of November, when I came for
six weeks to England. As I was approaching Dublin to cross the
water, my strange idea revived, but its aspect was more inviting.
The result of my visit to Lord John Russell had been so encouraging,
that I wrote to Lord Clarendon, and asked permission to pay him my
respects, as I passed through Dublin. He sent me a very kind answer
to the place which I had pointed out, naming an hour on the day
named above--half-past one, November 13--at which time I was
introduced into his private room at the Lodge. One of his first
remarks was that circumstances were greatly changed with us both
since our last meeting. Indeed, they were, as any one would have
said who had seen him as George Villiers, of St. John's, and me as
George Spencer, of Trinity, walking together in our college gowns,
at Cambridge, and now should see him in his grand Viceregal Palace,
and me before him in my poor Passionist's habit; and is it not
something to be looked upon with satisfaction, that we should now
have a conversation for an hour and a half, of which, though the
matter was something far more weighty than what would very probably
have occupied us then, the tone which he gave to it was such, that
one might have supposed our familiar acquaintance had never been
interrupted? The conversation was throughout very interesting to me;
{406} but this does not seem to me the time nor the place to relate
what passed, excepting those passages which bore directly upon my
present subject.

I do not remember how, in the course of it, Lord Clarendon was led
to say: "I see in the papers that you have been preaching in several
places." I answered: "Yes, I have; and the principal object of my
asking for this interview with your lordship, was to tell you the
subject of my preaching, and to ask what you think of it. I am
preaching to the Irish people a crusade for the conquest of
England."

I am not clear whether it was before saying these words, or after,
that I related to him the conversation I had had with Lord John
Russell in the same way in which it was given in my last letter.
However this might be, I perfectly remember the way in which he
replied. He appeared at the first moment to be surprised; then fixed
upon me one rather searching look; and then deliberately said:
"Taking the view of things which you do, I think you are right."

* * * *

Lord Clarendon, knowing that I was next day to start for England,
concluded by most kindly expressing a wish to see me again, when I
should be passing at some future time through Dublin.

After six weeks I returned to renew my circuit in Ireland, and
returning to Dublin about the middle of January, though I had no
reason particularly for wishing to speak again with Lord Clarendon,
I considered that it was in some way a duty of propriety to ask for
an interview, as he had been pleased to request it at the close of
the first visit. Accordingly, after some time for reflection, I
wrote him a letter to this effect, and he appointed me half-past
eleven on Saturday, February 8, 1852. This time it was in Dublin
Castle that I saw him, being ushered into his private room through
the muskets, bayonets, and other arms--not ancient pieces, for
curiosity, as at Alton Towers, but arms of the most modern style,
ready for use--with which the hall and great staircase seemed to me
as though wainscoted throughout. I apologised soon after entering at
taking up so much of his time; and again somewhat later I offered to
{407} withdraw, however interesting was the conversation to myself.
He answered, "Oh, no! I am very glad to see you. They will soon tell
me of Sir Thomas Reddington being come for business: till then I am
free." I will now relate only one or two passages of this
conversation, as being, I conceive, of peculiar consequence to my
present purpose. I was saying something of my continued endeavours
to move the Irish to pray for England, and I suppose remarking that
this must have a salutary effect on the feelings of the people. He
said with an incredulous smile: "And do you think the Irish pray for
England?" "I have no doubt whatever," I answered, "that a great many
do, but it is as yet nothing to what I desire to bring them to."
With a still more incredulous look, he added: "Do you think they
pray for England at Maynooth?" "Well, my Lord,' I only know that
whenever I visit Maynooth the superiors appoint me a time for
addressing the students assembled (he looked evidently pleased at
hearing this); and will you listen," I continued, "to a sentence of
one of my half-hour's addresses to them? I began it without well
knowing what I was going to say; but when I had finished I said to
myself, I have said one good thing at least which I shall one day
turn to account. It was soon after the publication of Lord John
Russell's Durham letter. I said to them, 'Will you allow me to offer
you one word of advice? You will just now be tempted most probably
to say some violent things; especially some violent things of Lord
John Russell. Now I would ask you, Do you know Lord John Russell? I
suppose one and all would tell me _no_. The advice I was going to
offer is that you should not speak evil of what you do not know.'"
Lord Clarendon said: "Did you say that?" I said: "Yes, my lord." He
added emphatically: "That _was_ good." After I had risen to leave
him, I said: "My Lord, I have been often citing your Excellency,
since our first conversation, as one of those who entirely approve
of my proceedings." "What do you mean?" he quickly answered. "Did I
not tell you I would shed the last drop of my blood to stop the
progress of your religion?" "I perfectly remember that," I said;
"what I mean is that you approved of my way of {408} acting,
considering what I am." "Oh," he replied, "I understand you. If
every one acted as you do, we should have nothing to complain of."
This conversation lasted from three-quarters of an hour to an hour.

_Interview with Lord Palmerston_.

I am sometimes reminded of a story I heard of a groom, who had to
show off one of his master's horses, which he wished to sell. Among
all the other good qualities for which he had praised the animal, as
he stood behind him in the stable, being asked by the intended
purchaser, "What do you say of his temper?" he had just answered,
"Oh, he is as quiet as a lamb," when the horse kicked out, struck
the poor groom full in the pit of the stomach, and drove the breath
out of him. But he must stand to his text, and with wondrous
promptness he was just able to utter, "Ach--playful toad!" So I
will have our poor people hoped for, prayed for, borne with and
loved, with all their effigy burnings, with all their meetings to
hear Dr. Cumming or Mr. Stowell, with all their awful Popery
sermons, and, moreover, with the two or three thumps on the head,
and other pieces of genteel treatment which I met with myself, while
I walked about in my habit, before the Derby proclamation gave me
some time to breathe again.

After this preface as an apology, if it is one, for my last
sentences of last week, and for standing to _my_ text, in spite of
all that can be urged, I proceed to another of my narratives, which,
if not the most interesting and important in my eyes, is not the
least so; and, after which, in reply to such as might mention some
of the English rudenesses to us, and say to me, "What do you say to
that?" I would just say, "What do _you_ say to this?"--I mean my
interview with Lord Palmerston.

Through the month of May of the year 1851, I was engaged to preach
evening lectures in one of the London chapels, and I had my days to
devote in a great measure to the pursuit, so inconceivably
interesting to me, of conversations with leading people on my great
topic. I was at {409} that time greatly debilitated, and could walk
but very little, and to relieve me, therefore, as well as to enable
me to make the most of my time, a generous friend, who was
interested in my proceedings, furnished me with means to go from
house to house in a cab. One of these bright forenoons, I turned
into Carlton Gardens, and asked to see Lord Palmerston. I was not an
entire stranger to him, any more than to the other two noble persons
of whom I have already written. It will not be foreign to my purpose
to relate how my acquaintance with his lordship had been formed. May
I venture to call it a friendship? It was at the close of a long run
with Lord Derby's stag-hounds; I mean the grandfather of the present
earl, I think in 1821; we finished, I think, twenty-four miles from
London, and I was making up my mind for a long, tedious ride home on
my tired horse (for I was not up to having second horses and grooms
in my suite on those occasions), when Lord Palmerston, who was
likewise in at, not the death, but the taking (I forget the proper
sporting term) of the stag, understanding my case, and knowing me by
sight, though I think till then we had never spoken, gave my horse
in charge to his groom, and took me home with himself in a
post-chaise. For the short remaining time of my being known as a
young man about town, as we met at one party or another, Lord
Palmerston continued to accost me with a kind word, to which I had
good reason, it will be allowed, to respond in the best manner I
knew how. At the close of the London season of 1822 I made my bow,
and withdrew from that stage to prepare for taking orders, and,
except an interview of a few minutes in 1834, we had never met till
I appeared before the now far-famed and, by many, dreaded Foreign
Secretary, with my Passionist habit and sandalled feet for a private
audience. Like what Lord Clarendon said in the Park Lodge, Dublin, I
might have said here, "Great changes, my lord, since we first spoke
together!" On this occasion, however, no time was spent in mere
conversation. I had called, as I have said, in the forenoon. His
lordship had sent me a message as being busy, requesting me to call
again at two o'clock. On entering his private room, I found {410}
him engaged in looking over what seemed official papers, which he
had upon his knee, while we spoke, though without the least sign of
impatience or wish to get rid of me; but I saw that what became me
was to enter on business at once without waste of time or words. I
do not remember all the words which I used in this interview so well
as what I said to Lord John Russell and Lord Clarendon. The position
was not now so new and striking to me. I think I began without any
kind of apology; for his lordship's looks gave me no feeling that
any was needful or expected. I said, "that in coming to speak to his
lordship on this subject, I had not so much in view to ascertain
more and more that there was no danger of what I proposed causing
offence to our Government, as I thought what I had heard from others
was sufficient proof of this; but I wished to put as many of our
public men as I could meet with in possession of all my intentions
and proceedings, in order that if, at last, I succeeded, as I hoped,
in moving the Catholics to be interested about them, and these
matters came before the public, they might know from myself in
person what I really intended, and might be enabled, if they thought
well, to do me justice." This was the substance of what I said to
him. Having thus concluded, I awaited his answer, which was about as
follows:--"As you wish to know what I think of your doings, I must
say I do not by any means agree with you in considering it a
desirable result that this country should again be brought under
subjection to Rome. I do not profess to take my view from the
elevated and sublime ground on which you place yourself; I mean, I
speak not with reference to religious interests, but to political;
and as a politician, when we consider the way in which the Pope's
government is opposed to the progress of liberty, and liberal
institutions, I cannot say that I wish to see England again under
such influence." Thus far, I do not mean to say, that what I heard
was anything agreeable to me. Neither the matter nor the tone were
agreeable to me. There was something sarcastic in his tone. And does
that suit my purpose? it may be asked. I answer, "It does very
well." Could it be expected that he would speak very agreeably and
favourably {411} of the end I told him I was aiming at? If he had,
that would, I conceive, have just thrown a doubt on the sincerity of
what he said immediately after, in a tone simply and perfectly
agreeable, on the effect likely to result immediately from what I
was doing: and this was: "But as to what you are doing, as it must
tend to conciliate Catholic powers towards England, what have I to
say, but that it is excellent?" or some such word expressing full
and cordial approbation. After this, he went on with some remarks on
the establishment of the Hierarchy, which, of course, were in
accordance with what he had, I think, been saying a few days
previously in Parliament, complaining of it as offensive and
injurious; but on this part of the conversation I need not dwell, as
it had no bearing on the subject which I had proposed to him. With
regard to that, my impression on leaving him was this: that he had
listened with attention to what I had said, had at once perfectly
understood me, had answered me so as to make me perfectly understand
him on the subject simply and openly, and that what he had said was
entirely satisfactory to me. I could wish for nothing more; except,
of course, what St. Paul wished for in the presence of Festus and
Agrippa. I then rose: so did he; then shook hands with me, and most
kindly thanked me for having renewed our old acquaintance. To the
account of this conversation with Lord Palmerston, I will add, that
I asked, in the same bright month of May, for an interview with Lord
Derby. He requested I would rather explain myself in writing: which
I did; and received in answer from him a most condescending and kind
letter, in which, while he asserted his own steadfast adherence to
the Church of England, he declared his opinion that no one could
reasonably find fault with me for exerting myself as I did to
advance what I believed to be the truth.

Besides these interviews just recorded in his own words, he had several others with minor celebrities. He met some Protestant bishops; among the rest, Dr. Blomfield, whom he tried to move to praying for unity. Dr. Blomfield promised. Some of the bishops refuse to see him, and {412} others are "out" when he calls. He had an interview with Dr. Cumming, and the doctor's account of it did not eventually serve to raise that gentleman in the estimation of honourable or sensible people. He records in his journal being sent away ignominiously by Baptist and Methodist ministers, and, after one of these rebuffs, on May 24, 1851, he got so fearful a mobbing, when coming along the Charter House in London, that he was nearly killed. Had not some good shopkeeper opened his door for him, and helped him to a cab by a back passage, he believed he would certainly have fallen a victim to the fury of the crowd.

The day after this adventure, he assisted in Warwick-street at the ordination of his Grace the present Archbishop of Westminster, as sub-deacon.

He is a few months on the Continent again in this year. He preaches in French through Lille, Liège, Maestricht, Aix-la-Chapelle, always upon "the crusade." Before arriving in Cologne he had his address translated into German, in order to be able to speak to the Prussian children and people upon his favourite theme. As he was walking through Cologne one day, he accidentally met his brother, Lord Spencer. Lord Spencer wondered at the figure approaching him, and thought he recognized the features. At length he exclaimed, "Hilloa, George, what are you doing here?" "Begging," replied Father Ignatius. Those who knew them were much gratified at seeing the earl and the monk having a little friendly chat about old schoolboy days. Both seemed a little embarrassed and surprised at first, but after a minute or two they were quite at home with each other.

He prepared a petition for the King of Prussia, who was visiting Cologne, requesting an audience; but, after waiting patiently a few days, he writes in the journal: "The King is come and gone, but no notice of me. I must be content with _Rex regum_." He received a letter from Father Eugene a day or two before this, summoning him home to England for our Provincial Chapter, and his tour terminates on the 21st August.

{413}