St. Ignatius Loyola , livre ebook

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104 pages

English

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A short, popular biography of the ardent Spanish soldier who, while recuperating from a battle wound, was converted to the service of Christ by reading the Lives of the Saints. He initially did great penance, became holy, went to study at the University of Paris, wrote his Spiritual Exercises, gathered a following of brilliant holy men, and then founded the Jesuits. Impr. 114 pgs 7 Illus.,

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Catholic Church

Philosophie et théologie

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Publié par	TAN Books
Date de parution	01 janvier 1999
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781618904713
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0174€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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St. Ignatius greeting St. Francis Borgia on his arrival in Rome.

Nihil Obstat: John N. Strassmaier, S.J. Censor Deputatus Imprimatur: Edmund Canon Surmont Vicar General Westminster August 1, 1913
Published in 1919 by R. & T. Washbourne, Limited, London, as The Life of Saint Ignatius Loyola in the series Standard-bearers of the Faith: A Series of Lives of the Saints for Young and Old . This edition is taken from the Third Edition.
ISBN 978-0-89555-624-0
Library of Congress Catalog Card No.: 98-61411
Cover illustration: Statue at the Shrine of Loyola: the young Ignatius as he surrenders himself to God. Photo by arrangement with Ediciones Beascoa S.A., Barcelona.
Printed and bound in the United States of America.
TAN Books Charlotte, North Carolina 1998
A PRAYER OF ST. IGNATIUS
D EAREST LORD, teach me to be generous. Teach me to serve Thee as Thou deservest: to give and not to count the cost; to fight and not to heed the wounds; to toil and not to seek for rest; to labor and not to seek reward, save that of knowing that I do Thy Will, O God.
CONTENTS
1. Pamplona—And After
2. The Battlefield
3. The Forging of the Weapons
4. Jerusalem
5. In the King’s Service
6. The “Free Company”
7. The Warfare
8. The General and His Army
9. “Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam”
10. The Last Fight
11. The Legacy
A Collection of Classic Artwork
A Brief Life of Christ
Introductory
The Setting
Birth of Jesus
Childhood at Nazareth
John The Bapist
Jesus Begins His Ministry
Journey To Galilee
The Kingdom and the Apostles
Manifestations of Divine Power
Speaking in Parables
Increasing Popularity
Death of John the Baptist
Miracles of the Loaves
The Bread of Life
Peter the Rock
Training of the Twelve
Visit to Jerusalem
Clash with the Pharisees
Judean Ministry
The Supreme Declaration
Raising of Lazarus
Last Missionary Days
Banquet at Bethany
Palm Sunday
Second Cleansing of the Temple
Day of Questions
Judas the Betrayer
The Last Supper
Arrest and Trial
Death on Calvary
Risen and Living Still
INTRODUCTION
We know with what enthusiasm children read and ponder over the lives of those whose characters and deeds have won their admiration. They have even a way of identifying themselves with the personalities of their heroes and of repeating in imagination their achievements; nor is it so infrequent for this early cultivation of ideals to exercise a determining influence on the shaping of their after lives. It is thus, in fact, that in no small measure the great men and women of a nation are fashioned to their future calling.
Very similar, in the spiritual sphere, is the influence exercised on young people religiously brought up by the Lives of the Saints. Catholic children are particularly fond of this kind of reading. They realize vividly that the Saints are now reigning in Heaven and can watch over them and guide them just as, in accord with the words of the Psalmist, do their Guardian Angels. Hence they make them their mental companions, put trust in their intercessions, seek to assimilate their special spirit, cherish their favorite maxims and strive in their humbler way to imitate some of their actions. Children are not all alike, and save for a few chosen souls, their imitation necessarily falls far short of the pattern set. Still the practice is at all times elevating and sustaining, and it is a powerful instrument for their spiritual education.
But that Lives of the Saints may appeal thus to the young, they must be written in a special style. They must not be too complex or subjective, and even the attempt to be complete in giving all the facts and tracing analytically the growth of purpose and achievement may be overdone. What young people like best, and what is best for them, is to have the human interest and spiritual beauty of the Saint’s life brought out in their relation to a succession of its most salient incidents, these being told in simple but pictorial language. It is on these principles that the short lives which are to form the present series have been undertaken by a writer who knows the tastes of Catholic youth.
The life which stands at the head of the projected list and occupies these pages is one that lends itself well to this mode of treatment. For it is the life of the soldier saint who, through meditation on the life of his Divine Master, was led to exchange an earthly for a heavenly warfare and who became, in Newman’s words, the “St. George of modern history,” the Father of a long line of spiritual posterity whose zeal in the Church’s service is acknowledged and whose methods and motives, though often misunderstood, are conformed to the pattern of their Founder.
—Sydney F. Smith, S.J. September, 1913

Chapter 1
PAMPLONA—AND AFTER
T HE gray morning was breaking mistily over the little town of Pamplona in Navarre. To many of those within the citadel it seemed as if the grayness of the morning had found its way into their very hearts, so unpromising was the outlook that lay before them. The little garrison had been weakened by the retreat of many of the Spanish officers, their fortifications were incomplete, ammunition was scarce, and encamped at their very gates lay the French army. The attack might begin at any moment, and unless the expected reinforcements arrived, nothing could save the citadel. *
The idea of surrender had suggested itself to many minds and would certainly have been put into execution had it not been for the efforts of a young Spanish officer, Iñigo or Ignatius de Loyola. For days he had been exhorting the weak, encouraging the fainthearted and putting something of his own high courage and hopefulness into every heart.
The Viceroy would certainly come to their relief, he urged; the conditions offered by the French were most humiliating to the Spanish pride. For the honor of their country, let them hold out a little longer and all would be well.
It was hardly to be wondered at that young Loyola, endowed as he was with a marvelous gift of influencing others, was the darling of his men and a favorite with all. His family was one of the noblest in Spain; he had already distinguished himself on the field of battle, but it was not only as a soldier that he excelled. An expert in all the manly sports of the time, he could write a love sonnet or a religious poem with equal ease and illuminate them skillfully when written. He was a good dancer in a country where men and women are born with rhythm and music in their feet. But he was above and beyond all these things a man of war. His dearest aspiration was to win honor and glory as a soldier—to make for himself a name which should live in the history of his country.
We shall see later how this aspiration was realized, but the battlefield and the manner of the warfare were hidden for the present in the secret counsels of God.
Ignatius’ hope of a speedy reinforcement was vain. The Viceroy did not come, and the attack began that day. The assault was desperate, but the young Spaniard fought like a hero of old. Wherever the fire was hottest he was to be seen on the ramparts, a figure in shining armor, fighting with the strength of ten. Assailant after assailant fell dead at his feet or was hurled backwards over the ramparts, but the citadel was doomed. A cannonball struck the battlements where Loyola stood, sword in hand, like a young Achilles, and rebounded, shattering his right leg and grazing the left. Ignatius fell, and with him fell Pamplona.
When the wounded man recovered consciousness, he was lying in a tent in the French camp, and one of the most distinguished of the French officers sat beside his bed. Slowly the truth began to dawn on Ignatius’ weary brain: he was a prisoner, and Pamplona was taken. Then his eyes fell upon his sword, and he began to wonder.
“I am your prisoner,” he said, turning to the Frenchman, “and yet they have left me my arms.”
The officer bowed with a chivalrous courtesy. “All brave men can appreciate true valor, Don Iñigo,” he replied. “You are our guest; is there anything that I can do for you? I am at your service.”
The young Spaniard thought for a moment.
“My uncle, the Duke of Najera, is on his way to Pamplona,” he replied. “I should be grateful if you would let him know that I did my best.”
As soon as he was able to bear the journey, Ignatius was conveyed to the castle of Loyola, where he was received by his elder brother, Don Martin. There the leg, owing to the unskillful setting of the bone, had to be broken afresh, and for several days his life was in danger.
Long weeks of weary suffering followed, not the least part of which, to the active spirit of the young soldier, was the enforced inaction, for every movement caused him pain. At last the wound healed and the doctors examined the injured leg carefully.
There was just one thing they thought perhaps they ought to mention. The right leg would be a trifle shorter than the left, and a little less shapely. The vanity of the invalid took alarm. Owing to the dress of the period, with its long, tightly fitting hose, any peculiarity in gait was very noticeable. Ignatius was not a little proud of his good looks and his graceful carriage.
Was there no remedy, he asked anxiously; could nothing be done?
The doctors looked at each other gravely.
There was one remedy, they said, but they would hardly advise it. The wound would have to be reopened, part of the bone sawed off, and the leg stretched with an iron machine—then possibly all might be well.
“Do it,” replied Ignatius promptly.
The doctors still hesitated. The operation would be a very painful one, they objected, and would be followed by many weeks of suffering during which the patient would have to remain perfectly still.
“Do it,” repeated Ignatius doggedly.
In those days the modern inventions for deadening pain were unknown. The patient was firmly tied down and, fully conscious of all that was going on, endured as bes