_OF WHAT RELIGION IS FATHER IGNATIUS?_
I have often been asked this question, and in some respects it is not a
very easy one to answer, because Father Ignatius has such a wonderful way
of being all things to all men. He has stood on the platform and preached
by the side of General Booth’s wife, and has joined in their processions.
He has himself told me that he has gone to a Roman Catholic Dominican
monastery, and was welcomed there by the monks under the designation of
the “Abbot Ignatius.” He has himself told us not to let poor ignorant
Roman Catholics know there is any difference between us and them, as they
will not know the difference unless they are told.
Whilst we were bid to read the Bible, yet we were taught to regard it
as giving a clear proof that the monastic life is the highest life on
earth, and our Lord’s example for such a life was ever put before us:
we were taught that He was an enclosed monk from the age of twelve until
thirty, when He commenced His public life, because there is not a word
mentioned in the Bible about Him during this period. This was supposed to
afford a clear proof that the life of a monk or a nun is much higher than
that even of a sister of mercy.
Though we were allowed to read a non-Roman Catholic Bible, yet with
regard to other books we went to Rome for them; such as: “The Life of
St. Teresa,” “Life of St. Gertrude,”[19] “Life of St. Mary Magdalene of
Piazzi,” “Life of St. Catherine of Sienna,” “Life of St. Thomas Aquinas,”
“Life of St. Alphonsus Liguori,” “Life of the Curé de Ars,” “The Diurnal
of the Soul,” “The Glories of Mary,” and “The Paradise of the Earth.”
Many other books from the same source, too many to enumerate here, were
given us by Father Ignatius (and truly a man is known by his books), or
were read with his sanction.
He did not approve of one thing which St. Thomas Aquinas taught; namely,
that if a Superior should teach what is sinful or contrary to God’s law,
the obedience would be illicit, and the nun would not be breaking her
vow if she refused to obey. Father Ignatius taught us that he himself
could not command what was wrong, because he was the father and founder
of the revived monastic life in the Church of England. I cannot put this
matter any plainer, for I never could quite understand what he meant,
but I did foolishly believe he could not tell us to do wrong, because he
said so, and for no other reason whatever. Our Office Book, too, was the
Roman Catholic “Benedictine Breviary,” and for years the Roman Catholic
“Ordinary of the Mass” was used at the altar. Lately Father Ignatius
has taken a fancy to use the Sarum missal, which seems more elaborate
than the Roman ritual. The High Church party is not in great favour with
him, and, as a good many of them ignore him, they are put down as “namby
pamby.”
The nuns were and are (when there are sufficient to perform the ceremony)
to be called “Nuns of the Perpetual Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.”
At present this perpetual adoration is, as a fact, only for certain times
and great festivals. I will attempt to describe it.
The altar is for the occasion adorned with about 105 lighted candles.
These are intermingled with vases of exquisite flowers. I have known them
to cost £60.
The “Sacred Host” is always in the tabernacle; but on these days, when
the altar is decorated out so finely, the Host is put into a Monstrance,
and enthroned amidst lighted tapers, flowers, jewels, and clouds of
incense, and at the sound of sweet music and singing (in Latin) bottles
of Eau de Cologne are poured over the altar, to be, as he frequently
said, “wasted on Jesus,” like Mary’s alabaster box of ointment. The
tabernacle is of exquisite beauty and workmanship, with crimson velvet
curtains, looped up with massive gold chains, over which is a real
diamond cross. The beautiful images of angels have enough bangles hanging
on their arms to set up a jeweller’s shop with, and there is a piece of
cloth of gold used for the Host, on which are many jewels; one small
corner of the cloth alone has, I think, seventeen rings, which formerly
belonged to a certain sister. The boys on this occasion are clothed in
scarlet cassocks, each with a white cotta, trimmed with lace; the abbot
himself appears in gorgeous apparel, as also those who assist him. The
nuns used to wear long white veils down to the ground, over which were
their crimson veils, used only during the adoration of the Host, with
long trains. Though these are attractive-looking, yet the weight of about
twelve yards of material hanging from the head is anything but pleasant,
especially in hot weather; and what with wearing these veils, inhaling
the incense, and singing with all one’s power for two hours or more, I
generally had a very bad headache.
After the service called “Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament,” all leave
the chapel, except the monk or nun who remains to take the watch. After
this one has remained motionless in prayer for an hour, the great abbey
bell (which was consecrated to and named St. Bernard) tolls five strokes,
when everybody (no matter where or in what occupation) must kneel down
and say, “Blessed and praised at every moment be the most holy and
divine Sacrament.” Then some one else takes the watch before the reserved
Sacrament for another hour, and this goes on all the day, which closes
with the most solemn and gorgeously bewildering “Benediction of the
Sacrament,” more so, I verily believe, than in any Roman Catholic Church
in England.
At Christmas the Bambino is the first object of worship and adoration.
This Bambino is a beautiful figure of a baby, for which (I have been
told) eighty guineas were paid. This figure is laid in the manger at
midnight of Christmas, amid much ritual and ceremony, after which we all
formed in procession, with lighted tapers, veiled in our crimson veils,
to kiss the feet of the holy Child, which adoration we also performed
about nine times on Christmas Day, and every day afterwards until the
octave of the Epiphany, though not so frequently as on Christmas Day.[20]
As seculars are not allowed within the precincts of the monks’ or nuns’
choir, the right reverend Lord Abbot, vested in cope and mitre, holds
the baby in his lap at the grating, for the faithful laity to pay to it
their adoration. If the Abbot should not be there, the Mother Superior,
Mary Wereburgh (otherwise Mrs. B.⸺), represents the Virgin mother, robed
in a cope of white satin or silk.
We were not taught to believe in the infallibility of the Pope. Father
Ignatius had been to Rome and kissed the Pope’s toe, and was very proud
of it too. There was no need to believe much in the Pope, for Father
Ignatius and the Lady Prioress were practically our two infallible Popes.
Neither were we taught the doctrine of the immaculate conception of the
blessed Virgin Mary.
I think, with these two exceptions, we were identical in doctrine with
the Church of Rome. And now I leave it to my readers to decide for
themselves as to what is the religion of Father Ignatius.