Christopher Devlin SJ (1907-1961) was an extremely gifted

Jesuit of the British Province--teacher, military chaplain,

scholar, poet, maybe also theologian. He is best known for
his biography of Robert Southwell, poet and martyr; and
also for an edition of Hopkins's religious prose. His sisterin-law, who obviously loved him deeply, wrote a biography
of him after his death. It illustrates how obedience worked
for Jesuits of that province in that period, among other
things.

Fr

Christopher's friendship with Henry John had become very deep.

D'Arcy

described

it

as

'love-hate'

relationship

and

Fr

Martindale, who by this time knew Christopher as weil as he knew

Henry John, said

I am sorry that Henry John (though we were good and quarrelsome

friends) influenced Chris, because Henry, I consider, spoilt himself
by his idea that you could do nothing save by violence.
Frankly I thought Henry John was becoming so neurotic that his
sanity was in danger. This is not impressionism- I had reasons.
One sultry evening at Heythrop, shortly after our visit, a fight

broke out between the two of them; the sort of fight that could

Strangely, such a brilliant man was not sent to University-this first extract explains why.

occur between two tense, hot-blooded men, within whose close

friendship anything could happen. On this occasion one threw a

book at the other and after this they came to blows. The two of

them came down to supper in the refectory - one with a black eye
and the other with a eut lip. This was noticed. They were made to
In

do a refectory penance. The fight was not forgotten nor were other

the reward for ali his labour- the long cherished dream

of their quarrels. It was thought that it would be as unwise as it

deided that both he an.d Henry John,- who had joined the Order a

one small bouse at Oxford, Campion Hall, the Jesuit bouse of

1932

of going to Oxford- seemed to be within his grasp. The Society had

year later than Christopher,- should go up that autumn.
It was in February of

1932,

on my wedding day, that I met

Christopher for the first time. He stood at the foot of the altar
having a minor part to play in the ceremony; he was still quite young
but already he was a man set apart and dedicated. In May that year
William died, and a month later, in June I saw Christopher again for
Patrick and 1 spent a sun-lit week-end staying near the College and
walking with him in the Cotswolds. And then, quite shortly after

that,

would be distracting and disturbing to have them both together in

studies. It was decided, therefore, that only one of them should go
to Oxford and it would be difficult to dispute that the obvious one
to go there was Henry John.
Of course nowadays Christopher would have been sent to get a

degree somewhere else The Juniorate was in fact abolished

(21)

so

that ali Jesuits can riow get sorne qualification without necessarily
lengthening their years of training. But in the third decade of the

century the need for a degree, strange as that may seem thirty years

later, was not obvious. The lack, in due course, gravely handicapped

the sword of the guardian angel of paradise flashed out with

unexpected cruelty. (20)

Christopher and caused him pain. Sorne indeed think it 'a waste of
extraordinary

training.

talents' that he should not have had an academie

sentimentality'. The purp ose this time seems to have been some

There is no word of frustration in any of his notes- spiritual or

aJ.tobiographical; no pages have been tom out; no lines crossed

changed.

tune with a note he wrote earlier during a period of interior struggle

in Southwell's case this may have been 'to eut the bindweed of
thing quite different for the whole course of Christopher's life was
It came about in so unheralded and unexpected a way that at the

time no one seems to have realised what was involved.

(18) Only the doctrines of St Thomas Aquinas, enlarged and explained by

Iater writers were taught, and through misuderstanding Scotus it was thought
that his views were heterodox. 'Fr Geddes was a dear, but rigidly orthodox
and was bound to view with alann a young man who had the temerity to think
for himselr Fr Boyle.
(19) See p. 126.
(20) 'Life of Robert Southwell', p. 32.

30

through; no comment, nothing other than complete acceptance in

at Heythrop
1 must be ready to abandon (not necessity, do it exceptionally)
ordinary community enjoyments - Oxford.

In the struggle for self-conquest the figure of Robert Southwell

emerged from the dust of battle with the plume of beauty nodding

(21) In 1958.

31

proudly and gaily above the helmet of righteousness (22)

Christopher's victory was surely

no less complete. His normal

training went on; for two years he was sent to teach, first at
Stonyhurst and then at Beaumont. But in 1935 in his sparse auto
biographical notes there is a tragic epigraph:

England, had to be condoned, and it took quite a time before he

made friends with his Italian fellow-students or they,

for that

matter, with him; yet later on he was able to look back on the time
and on these friends with much affection.
His spiritual notes are full of his efforts to rid himself of the
faults he found but, on the whole, to those with consciences less

I divided my pulpy young-old heart between God and men; and

events eut in and tore it terribly. In 1935, Henry John-after the
ruin of our fifteen year friendship but not because of it-left the
Order and killed himself climbing down a mad cliff at Quantock. A
fellow-jesuit showed me the headline in an evening paper. 'Weil, he
did not get much good out of leaving the Society, did he?' said this
good religious. I went up to my room and looked wildly around me
with clenching and unclenching bands.
This was the year when Christopher was due to begin his four years
of Theology.
I got leave to go abroad for my studies - to Rome, the strictest of
our bouses; for after you have plumbed the depths of Rome, you
must either leave the Church or cleave to it for ever.
The Fathers of the Society who dealt with such matters, were only
too eager to grant his request to try to make up in any way they
could for the bitter disappointment they knew he had suffered.
En route for Rome he came to London and his mother came
from Aberdeen to see hlm off. I went with them to the Army &
Navy Stores where she bought hlm a black rain-coat saying to me,
'when I can't, will you see that he always has what he needs.' Of this
time Christopher wrote:
Mter I had watched my younger brother, Billy, triumph as 'Peer
Gynt' at the Old Vic, I caught the night train to Harwich. For a
week or two I wandered uneasily round old haunts in Italy, then
braced my shoulders and entered the self-appointed prison that was
to shelter me for four uninterrupted years.
6

spiritually attuned, the faults were by now what seem to be the

merest absent-minded peccadillos.
On 25 July, the feast day of his patron saint, (23) - the saint
who had 'a muscular neck and a grim scornful face' Christopher
'passed through the great moment of his ordination to the priest
hood.' He wrote at the time se:veral short notes to his mother, telling
her of the Masses he was going to offer for each member of the
family and when and where he would do so. Then, ten days later, he
wrote at greater length.
5th-6th August (1938)

Villa vecchia, Frascati (24)

Dear Mother,
Please excuse pencil, but ink has run out and it is too late to get
any more tonight
I was in such a state of exaltation during the last week at Rome,
that, blessedly, I hardly noticed the heat which was actually fright
ful. On the Feast of St Ignatius uly 31st) it reached 39
degrees - fever beat. The Ancient Fathers say it has never been so
hot since 1923- 15 years ago. I can weil believe it!
Here, of course, it is better, but still too much for any prolonged
exercise. So I am jqst resting till the cooler wind cornes. I have just
been reading in the Breviary of to day, (5th) the beautiful story of
how snow feil on the Esquiline on this day.
You will excuse me not writing more. But nothing much has be en
happening and I have not had many letters. Ali my joy and excite
ment has be en interior. And I cannot yet think of much except the
Miracle that is to happen the next morning and every other morning
fot the rest of my life till the earthly altar suddenly becomes that of
Heaven
Much love
Christopher

ROME
Christopher went to Rome just at the beginning of the era of
British Sanctions against Italy in her war with Abyssinia. Sanctions,

(23) It never ranked high in the Calendar & was abolished in 1969.
(24) The Je suit summer villa.

as seem invariably the case, did little excep't engender bitterness. The
hard life of the Roman theological student was added to by the
anti-British

feeling

which

naturally ran high

in the city and

penetrated ecclesiastical circles. Christopher's action in walking out

of Mass on one occasion, because the Italian preacher denounced

(22) 'Life of

The next passage recounts how he spent the first years of

WW2 as a teacher, only to become a military chaplain

Robert Southwell', p. 80.

32

33

BEAUMONT (1) 1940-41

The evacuees went home to Liverpool in March and at the end of
the year Christopher was sent south to teach again at Beaumont. He
was to spend most of his life teaching and rouch of it at Beaumont
under a distinguished J esuit, Fr Boyle, (2) who bec ame Provincial of
the Society. It was not dissatisfaction with Christopher's work which
caused Fr Boyle to say, and to repeat severa! times, though never in
Christopher's hearing, that
Providence and the Society between them had made a mess of
Christopher's career, and that immediately after his ordination he
ought to have been sent out to an unevangelized continent and told
to get on with it!
Actually Providence had given the Society little choice and yet had
the matter well under control.
Knowing Christopher well Fr Boyle sensed his malaise when he
was sent from Liverpool to the school and knew that his work there
was not satisfying him.
The glare of war, in t!"te Battl of Norw:ay and J?unkirk, laid bare my
.
native misery. Explosives and mcendianes bu!stng around, but never
near me, heightened the glare. Danger hsdamed e. 1 eemed
doomed to live - to be died for - and to hve. The anc1ent thust for
glory twisted my self-expression into ugly mouths <?f boastfulness,
melancholy, cynicism and sloth. From a mind so defded came work
shot with vanity, impatience, faint-heartedness.
It was,

of course the sedentary sheltered life niggling at his

conscience. The soldier that he was at heart, all unrealised, made him
long for action. But this was not at all his own diagnosis of his

i,

discouragement the substitute for bombs and sand-storms.

1 did; and was amazed how interesting Education became. Not to
burden the memory, but to clear the ground for initiative and
intuition and good impulse, to tend the growth of mind and heart: it
became positively exciting. Fortunately 1 had a fine Headmaster (Fr
Boyle) who, though intolerant of inefficiency, yet made no fetish of
exam. results and was willing to risk reputation on the venture.
Never before had the delicacy and unerring aim of Christ's words
and deeds ih the Gospels, seemed so pplicable to anything as to
Education. 'Pie Pelicane, J esu Domine' - the pelican of the legend
who fed her starving young upon her own entrails. 1 thanked God
for the Provincial's assurance that 1 should not be called up as a
chaplain. How rouch better to be a builder of future citizens than a
camp-follower in a dog-collar.
At our last meeting of the summer term, held in a grassy
amphitheatre, after the Heads of Departments had congratulated
each other, it was music to my ears to hear them add 'and of course
we mustn't forget to thank Fr Devlin' -: 1 had taught them to teach
themselves, without imposing my own personality. And next year
there would be great improvements. 1 was to supervise the whole
Middle School for games and studies and everything.
The summer holidays were filled with mission work; but 1 had
arranged for a quiet last week in the lovely old parish church of
Braemar, (3) among the Farquharsons and Grants and Macdonalds
who had kept the Faith ever since St Machar brought it. 1 arrived in
Aberdeen on 27 August. A battered looking missive, with a variety
of labels and re-addresses arrived at the same time:
'Your application for a commission in the Chaplains Branch of the
R. A.F.V.R. ,'
'Has been granted. You will report at 0930 hours, 28/8/41, for
medical examinatioJ;l at Adastral House, W.C. London.'
1 laughed uneasily. A mistake of course. Next mo"rning a mis
directed letter from the J;>rovincial (4) reached me; owing to
unexpected demands he ha<l, sent in my name as chaplain to the
Royal Air Force: he wished me God's blssin in my fute work.
.
.
To avoid a further orgy of self-p1ty 1 will not descnbe my fust
twelve months as a chaplain.

trouble a!ld he buried deep his lack of patience.

Sometimes, too, 1 thought that thst f<?r gory was not. te root
trouble but itself only a compensatiOn-disguise for unsat1sf1ed sex
desire and this thought played like a dagger round the nerve-centre
of m Faith. Either a hero or a herrnit, - the o!d dilemma faced me.
Either danger which would draw out the p <;nson of my se.lf-love,
leaving firm dean scars. Or else prayer wh1ch would punfy my
heart's-blood more effectually from within. The easier way seemed
closed 1 must choose the latter. Impossible to be a proper hermit,
'
but 1 could at least bury my self in my work, making snubs and

(1) Beaumont College, Old Windsor, Berks.

(2) Headmaster (Prefect of Studies) 1931-1950 and Rector as weil
1947-50, Provincial (of the English Province) 1952-58. Now Rector of St
John's Beaumont, Old Windsor.
36

37

When CD's literary career was beginning to flourish, he was sent to

the then Southern Rhodesia--here is the account.

. '

Christopher sat next to

Fr Boyle at dinner on this day of his

Visitation in the late summer or early autumn of 1955 and they

How long would the other side of his nature have been satisfied

with this life? -the side he also shared with Southwell? Southwell

had joined the new religious Order of the Jesuits because they
mingled the old chivalric devotion to God with learning and a new

spirit

of

adventure. He

Indies. (30)

Already

this

had

longed

year,

to

be

Christopher

an apostle
had

in the

remarked

that

whereas from the age of seven until he was thirty-five his life seemed
to fall into 'chapters' of seven years duration, since then, that is
since 1942, he could divide it into chapters of five years or less, and

this did not displease him. The spirit of adventure was always strong
in hlm.

When the Manresa chapter abruptly ended, every one was taken

by surprise but to criticise the change as many did, shows, as later

they would find, a misunderstanding of Christopher's character and

of that of the Provincial's also. But the misunderstanding was

inevitable; and Christopher re-acted in exactly the same way as he

had when he had suddenly been drafted into the R.A.F. or, as he
later put it, he tried to resist the will of God with dire consequences
to his peace of mind.
What happened was this; Fr Boyle, newly returned from Rhodesia
where the J esuit Missions are part of the English Province, went to
Manresa College to make his Visitation there. His mind was full of
these missions under his care. Until he had been chosen Provincial he
had worked for nearly all his life in the schools of the Society; for
nineteen years he had been Beaumont's exceptional headmaster; yet
it appears that always uppermost in his heart lay the zeal, which lies
certainly at sorne time or another in the hearts of all Ignatius's
followers, the zeal 'to go and tell ali nations ...' He had come home
determined to send out as many of the finest and most sensitive of
the youner men he could find, men who would usually have been
ear-marked for writing, teaching and lecturing at home. He

appreciated the needs and the promise of the Africans and thought

ali kinds of men were needed to bring out the best in them, and not

only the very select band, with special vocations for missionary
work, who hitherto had carried out the task.Time was running short
in which there was

talked of the missions and their needs and of little else besicles. Fr
Boyle is convinced that the thought of sending Christopher to

Rhodesia had never crossed his mind; he had had no intention of

moving him from Manresa where he was doing excellent work

tending the growth of scholastics of a calibre equal to his own and

writing two books both of which bore witness to his capacity and to
the beauty of his language. His strong recollection is that they were

talking in quite general terms of the needs of the Mission when

Christopher suddenly offered to go. And indeed Christopher had

said, 'Why not send me'? but the remark was involuntary. He was
amazed when he realised what he had said, regretted his impulsive
words and was surprised when the idea was not dismissed out of
hand.

Far from doing that

Fr Boyle 'with his deep and long

conviction of Christopher's altogether outstanding qualities' says

that he could 'have jumped at the God-sent opportunity come at last
to offer hlm the sort of challenge that he deserved and that would

give his smouldering zeal full scope.' ln fact he did not 'jump' at ali;

instead he told Christopher to take his time in thinking it over and

to make his own choice of going or not going. He even warned him
that if he made up his mind to go he might fail to get on the
Missions

proper

and might be kept to work

among the white

Rhodesians in Salisbury, so releasing a younger man to get down to

learning the language.
There followed, fortunately as it tumed out, a lack of com
munication between the two which was not

Fr Boyle's fault. A

Superior of aJesuit house is in a real sense in a father's place. Father

Boyle was not blind to the fact that Christopher had made his mark
as a teacher of English at the highest leel, or that he had been a first
rate schoolmaster with a fresh and original approach which had led

to excellent results. He thought nevertheless that he understood

rightly the missionary zeal of this particularly dear son and that
what Christopher could do in

than

anything

he

had

Africa would be of still more value

yet achieved. He could not know that

Christopher bitterly regretted his offer and could not think, and

would not ask why, at this stage of his career he could be sent to do

what he had been prevented from doing nine or ten years earlier.
Christopher had always shunned the limelight, this according to Fr

still a chance of building up a decent educated body of

before the gong goes. (31)

Africans

Bernard Bassett, SJ his contemporary, had been part of a deliberate

policy which dated from the days when he was a scholastic. Y et true
humility demands that a man should know the value of his work -if

(30) 'Life of Robc:rt Southwell', p. 10.

(31) See Christopher's Jetter to Rupert Hart-Davis, pp. 177-8 below.
106

only to measure of how little worth even the best of anything can be
when compared with the infinite -and Christopher knew his own
107

But now 1 am off to another hemisphere for 1 dont know how long
- 5 to 10 years is the usual time before 1 leave.
.
1 will be out of London from tomorrow off and on tdl 12th
January seeing brothers and sisters and people, then ack for t e est
of the time so that 1 know you will let me know 1f that comc1des
with any visit of yours.

capacities and could not really believe that he had blotted his copy
book; yet, if he bad not why should his offer, which would change

the whole course of his work, be accepted? He remained silent but

took the decision that since it seemed expected of him, he would go.
But deep down there were two other reasons which helped him to
this decision; one was quite simple, what he bad thought once might

After Christmas the hope that Christopher privately nourished

be for hlm 'a vocation within a vocation' might still be so. The other

that 'the unexpected would happen' and that 1956 would not find

was more complex; of ali those nearest and dearest to him only Joan

him leaving the country, faded, and then indeed he did move about

Mary was devoted to the catholic faith, by being in England he bad

'in a dream or nightmare'. His misery was no less hard to watch

already proved that there was nothing he could do about it; by going

because it was dumb. When two weeks only remained he began to

to Mrica he could make an offering to God of the secret sorrow in

huy the dothes he would need, for which the Society bad given him

his heart.

the money. He never ventured to shop alone. His trunk at Farm

He began to learn Shona, the language he would need, and he

Street, half-full of his papers, should have been on board his ship by

gave himself three months in which to finish the editing of Hopkins's

29 January. On the 29th he still bad not finished his packing nor

spiritual writings. A few days before Christmas this was done; he bad

made any arrangement for getting it to the Docks.

put down on paper his insight into Hopkins, man, poet and religious,

On Sunday, the 30th, he offered Mass at the High Altar and

which bad resulted from his early studies and on which his mind bad

preached at Farm Street, this was a great honour accorded him by

now played, enriching his earlier work, for more than a quarter of a
century. And he wrote something more, in explaining Hopkins's he
explained his own belief, though it did not always concide with his
subject's. At the end he could say 'in that book 1 have said ali 1 have
to say about my faith'. Then, perforee, he left it for other bands to
revise, correct and make ready for the printer. This formidable
task - as weil as the one of obtaining the Society's approval of the
work, devolved on Fr Philip Caraman. On S December Christopher
bad given his fiat to Fr Boyle; on the !9th he wrote to Aileen from
Manresa,

1
:\

the Community there. For sorne obscure reason none of us went and
he was burt. On the 31st we bad a farewell dinner at our flat in
Gray's Inn Square to which Fr D'Arcy, Fr Brodrick and Fr Caraman
came;

Fr

Brodrick (32) was

good

friend,

too,

and

warmly

respected by both Christopher and Patrick. Billy could not come,

and,

alas,

Aileen

was ill, but Charlie came with one of their

daughters, Coney; none of our sons could get home from school but
Clare and Virginia, qur daughters were there. A picture feil down
during dinner. This bad also happened in the ISSOs wh en the Jesuit
Provincial, Fr Edward Purbrick bad dined with his friend Archbishop

1 have just finished typing my Hopkins book in a rush, so please

excuse my typing with the momentum of it. 1 had hoped to send my
Southwell book for a Christmas present. It should have been out in
October, then December was mentioned but now they (Longmans)
admit it wont be till March or April: and by that time 1 shall have
gone- ah, my dread news bas escaped me.
Unless 1 have been moving about in a dream or a nightmare for
the last three months, 1 have booked a passage for Rhodesia on
February lst, so presumably 1 shall leave on that date, though it ali
seems a little unreal, except that 1 have been learning the Shona
language for the last three months as weil as struggling with Hopkins.
What can 1 say now? Nothing except the usual things, the
intensity of which you will have to take for granted: that if 1 dont
see you and Charlie again, you will always remain in my mind and
heart as very special people, and 1 can still and always will remember
in the vividest detail ali the times that you have been so kind to me.
1 have often reproached myself that 1 have not tried here in London
to get to know better your daughters whom 1 like so terribly much. 1
always promised myself that 1 would when 1 bad finished my two
books and had more liberty to move around as 1 expected to have.

10S

Benson

at

Lambeth

Palace (33)- (many

years

before

the

ecumenical movement)- but the significance of this fact, if any,

was not on either occasion apparent. Ours was a good gathering and
it broke up late despite the thoughts of the early start to be made
next morning.
Clare and Virginia came with me in the car, and we fetched
Christopher from Farm Street at 7.30 in the morning. It was 1
February and the coldest day recorded for many years. Fr Richard
Clarke, who always saw off departing missionaries, helping them
with any last minute problems, had been going to Bishopsgate
Station

with

Christopher, but seeing the family nature of the

occasion tactfully and silently withdrew.

Christopher had said nothing at ali to Fr Boyle, the instrument of

(32) Fr James Brodrick, SJ., distinguished autho r of many books on the

Jesuits.
(33) 'The EnglishJesuits', Fr Bernard Bassett, SJ., 1967, Burns & Oates, p.
407.

109

. p

'"'.

1'

Providence and to the end Fr Boyle thought that 'his going was the
result of his own generosity and zeal. If these had not been so
outstanding, 1 do not think one could have faced the protests of

those who with very good reason thought he should have remained
in this country to continue his work on Hopkins and Southwell to
which he was eminently suited.' But Christopher knew of few

PART FOUR

protests, he only knew the time had really come, and that he was
going.

JOURNET TO RHODESIA

Dropping Virginia at her school and Clare at Waterloo, for hers

was at Salisbury, we drove in silence through the city. We said good
bye without even a handshake and as though we would meet on the
morrow.

THE WAY THE RE

1 left Christopher at the station gazing at a timetable of no

possible significance for him.

The bitterly cold weather continued echoing without Christopher's

frozen feelings within, though of the icy chili he may, like King
Lear, have reflected,

What now follows are CS's account of another frustrated artist

of the Province: Gerard Manley Hopkin

it will not give me leave to ponder

On things would hurt me more.

'i
1,

,,

For three nights it was so cold on the ship he had boarded that he
slept in his clothes and longed for a hot water bottle - a thing he
never used. He had a tiny cabin to himself on the M.V. Bloem
fontein, a ship which had been commissioned by Field Marshall
Smuts shortly before he died to carry British immigrants to the
Union;

now

she

carried

passengers as weil

who

wanted

like

Christopher to make 'the long joumey round the coast of Africa, or

to land at the ports on

the

way to the Cape, or up the East Coast,

and the immigrants were mostly Dutch or German. At Rotterdam,

the first port at which she called, the ship was held up for a day
waiting for a hundred Germans, whose train had been delayed by ice
and snow; from there Christopher posted, on 3 February, a letter to

Patrick. lt was warm at heart,

1 just seize this opportunity to thank you so much for your noble
and most successful efforts at the dinner party on Tuesday evening.
The three J esuits were ali delighted and mu ch impressed.
1 can't tell you how grateful 1 am to you and Madeleine for
making my 'last' days so pleasant; but fortunately between us there
is no need for any effusion in that respect.
.
We have been here since early yesterday moming and leave this
evening. 1 strolled around the town quite a bit and found the Dutch
very pleasant - and bought a stock of light cigars very cheap.
1 hope you are not going to have a terrible winter at the last
moment.
And from then on we received a gay almost day to day account of

110

Ill

IlS

SERMONS AND WRITINGS OF G. M.

It may be mentioned in passing that the deliberate refusai to allow

desire and choice to be separated was the main inspiration of sevenw
teenthcentury religious art and poetry. As soon as the separation is
sanctioned, the beauty begins to go out of religion and the certitude
out of art.
Ail this, it is clear, Hopkins knew very weil and kept deepening
the knowledge of it. It represents his normal and considered position,
and examples of his adhesion to it occur again and again in his
poetry and his prose. Yet every now and again, both in his sermons
and spiritual writings, there re signs of a dark opposing presupposiw
ti on which he seems unable to exorcize wholly: the presupposition
of the lon ely will struggling grimly against all that is most attractive
to his higher nature.
He says, for example, 1 that a man's personality and his nature are
joined together by God in a wholly arbitrary manner-as if a man
could be saddled with a nature fundamentally out of tune with his
destiny. What he says in another placez is a logical consequence of
this: that no initial impulse towards God the infinite can come from
the spontaneous desire of the soul, ali initiative cornes from this iso
lated and mysterious ego, the arbitrium or 'self':
But the tendency in the soul towards aninfinite object cornes from the
arbitrium. The arbitrium in itself is man's personality or individuality and
places hlm on a level of individuality in sorne sense with God; so that in so
far as God is one thing, a self, an individual being, he is an: object of appre
hension, desire, pursuit to man's arbitrium.

This suggests the image of 'wrestling with God' in the sextet of

Poems, 64, which disappoints somewhat after the unsurpassable first

lines of the octet. It is an image which is somehow alien toCatholic

spirituality.
In a seemingly different, but in fact connected, context he says
in a sermon3 that the mere fact of being esteemedmakes a man
proud. This is not true; esteem is a good which a man can use for
the glory of God or misuse for his own. But the vanity of self-esteem
1
3

See note p. 293 ( I 46. 6).

See notes p. 275 ( 1 6, r, 1 6. 2).

SPIRITUAL WRITINGS

HOPKINS

See note p. 29 1 ( 1 38. 4).

II9

is in any case another and lesser danger than the lonely pride of selfw
satisfaction in self-will. To desire fame is more a folly than a crime,
since it brings to most men-and it certainly would to a Jesuit-as
rouch mockery and distress as soothing flattery. But a certain measure
of esteem is the natural climate which a man's gifts rquire in order
to operate fruitfully. 1 To desire a certain measure of esteem may be
a mark of humility if a man knows he cannot work weil without it;
to reject it may be a mark of pride. Caught between Hopkins's
exaggeration of the arbitrium and his horror of esteem lay his poetic
genius.
His poetic genius was his very essence, his 'inscape', his special
likeness. to the Divine Essence. Yet Hopkins the Jesuit behaved to
Hopkins the poet as a Victorian husband might to a wife of whom
he had cause to be ashamed. His muse was a highborn. lady, a
chaste matron, dedicate to God; but he treated her in public as
a slut, and her children as an unwanted and vaguely sinful burden.
This is a dangerous thing to say because it raises biographical prob
lems which can only be briefly indicated, but indicated they ust
be, in so far as they are bound up with his exaggerated distinction

between the affective and the elective will.

It is certain that Hopkins was keenly and even agonizingly aware
of his duty to these children, his poems, and that in secret he loved
them passionately. This is clear from his letters, especially from

the exchange with Dixol\ (November-December II38I) about 'the

counterpoise'. A man? in order to manage his nature, has sometimes
to lay far more stress in one direction than is ideally right, for fear
that, if he tries mrdy to keep the balance, he will be overthrown.
St Ignatius, for example, in the early days of his conversion com
mitted certain 'pious follies' which he condemned in later years
and would not allow his disciples to imitate. But in such cases a

man is a surer judge of others' problems than of his own.

,
From this would rise the whole question of Hopkins's relations
with his Superiors. If his Superiors attached no importance to his
poetry, then he was aiming at the perfection of obedience in trying
to make their attitude his own. But, on the other hand, if they had
allowed him-as they probably would have done, had they been
asked-to let Dixon publish sorne of his poems, was it not his duty
to take this indirect means of enlightening . them? One does not
have to be cynical to know that to the practical mind an unpublished
poem may seem a waste of time, but a published poem is, after ali,
an achievement. In Hopkins's reply to Dixonz it is not easy to
1

This was Hopkins's own considered and very emphatic assertion in Oct. 1886.

(Letters, i. 23 1 .)
2 Letters, ii. 29-3 I.

120

SERMONS AND

WRITINGS OF

G.

M.

SPIRITUAL

HOPKINS

WRITINGS

121

tive horror of ridicule.

levelled at him here are meant as investigators only. They are not in
any sense conclusions. The only possible conclusion is that, mixed

Now it is certain that Hopkins's stress on a naked, anti-natural,

non-affective will does not come either from Scotus or from St

he believed with complete sincerity that the sacrifice of his poetic

distinguish between his spiritual desire to be unknown and his sensi

though his motives may have been both conscious and unconscious,

Ignatius, the two main influences in his spiritual writings. But since

gifts was a faithful imitation of Our Lord in 'the great sacrifice'. In

that time there had been the Romantic Movement, Carlyle's

reply to Dixon's simple but really unanswerable remark: 'Surely

'Heroes', and the Victorian code of ethics. From the Romantic

one vocation cannot destroy another', he wrote: 'Now if you value

Movement came the notion of the poet as a rival priest and of poetry

what I write, as I do myself, much more does our Lord. And if he

as a new and more revealing religion. As to the Victorian code, one

chooses to avail himself of what I leave at his disposai he can do so

does not have to be a social historian to know that in the days of

with a felicity and a success which I could never command' (Letters,

one's grandparents the dichotomy between 'duty' and 'inclination'

ii. 93).
As things have turned out, who clare say that he was not right?

was taken for granted at every level-provided the inclination was

conscious. The idea of duty itself being an inclination was unheard
of; duty was a sort of Kantian categorical imperative. It would be
surprising if something of this atmosphere had not invaded the train
ing of an EnglishJesuit of that period. There is here a problem which
all who aim at holiness have to solve. In the Imitation rif Christ, which
is prescribed reading for allJesuits, a stark contrast is drawn between

There follows, in English and in French, the letter which GMH

wrote during his tertianship, explaining his reluctance to allow
his friends to publish his poetry

nature and grace, and in the writings of many of the saints, StJohn
of the Cross, for instance, all creatures have to be denied. The
Christian solution is not Manicha:an, but undoubtedly in the nine
teenth century a perhapsjansenistic spirit crept at times into Catho
lic spirituality, which corresponded with the severe educational and
religious ideals current in England at that time.
At any rate there were in the Englsh Province at that time many
men of great, even gigantic, moral stature-a surprising number of
them converts, like Hopkins, from a strictly practised Protestantism.
Hopkins had an intense desire to be worthy of his place among such
men. It s0metimes escaped him that this desire was entitatively the
same as his desire to praise God through his poetry. Instead he
tended to think of his love of beauty as a weakness to which stronger

1
..

men than he were not liable, and to throw the whole weight of his
indomitable will against it. So he exaggerated Scotus's distinction
between nature and individuality; he assigned all his love of beauty
to the voluntas ut natura and all his desire for holiness to the naked
arbitrium, instead of remembering that the love of beauty is-as
Scotus says it is-the initial impulse to the love of God. In this way,
his psychological error about the arbitrium may be looked on both as
a cause and an effect of his depreciation of his poetic genius.,
Once more it must be stressed that this was not Hopkins's normal

and settled poise. It was a kink whih threatened him when he was
off-balance. And even then, who is to say that, under those circum
stances, he did not choose rightly? The 'counterpoise', though ex

cessive in itself, may have been right for the whole. The cri.ticisms

Hopkins crivait ce texte un de ces amis, qui voulait publier ses posies, pendant les jours de repos de
ses Exercices du troisime an. Comment y ragis-tu ?

Quand un homme s'est consacr au service de Dieu, quand il s'est renonc pour suivre
le Christ, il s'est prpar recevoir et reoit en effet de Dieu une direction spciale,
une providence particulire. Cette direction lui est dispense en partie par des
lumires et des inspirations directes. Si j'attends de recevoir cette direction, par
quelque canal qu'elle me soit imprime, en toutes choses, propos de ma posie par
exemple, j'agis plus sagement tous gards que si je m'efforce de servir mes propres
intrts apparents en la matire. Or, si vous apprciez ce que j'cris, si je l'apprcie
moi-mme, bien davantage le fait Notre-Seigneur. S'il choisit de faire usage de ce que
je laisse sa disposition, il le fait avec une flicit et un succs auxquels je ne saurais
prtendre. Et s'il ne le fait point, deux choses en rsultent; la premire, c'est que la
rcompense que je recevrai nanmoins de lui n'en sera que plus grande, - la seconde,
combien j'eusse agi l'encontre de sa volont et mme de mes propres intrts si j'avais
pris les choses en main et pouss la publication [de mes pomes]. Tel est mon
principe et telle a t dans l'ensemble ma ligne de conduite : mener la sorte de vie que
je mne ici semble ais, mais lorsqu'on se mle au monde et qu'on est de toutes parts
l'objet de ses sollicitations secrtes, c'est chose plus difficile, c'est chose trs difficile
que de vivre selon la foi; nanmoins, avec l'aide de Dieu, je ferai toujours ainsi.
Notre Socit accorde de la valeur, comme vous le dites, et a contribu, la littrature,
la culture, mais seulement comme un moyen en vue d'une fin. Son histoire et son
exprience montrent que la littrature proprement dite, la posie par exemple, s'est
rarement rvle trs utile cette fin, Nous avons vu .pendant trois sicles la fleur de
la jeunesse d'un pays affluer chez nous en masse: parmi eux, combien de potes,
combien d'artistes de toute sorte doit-il y avoir! Cependant il y eut trs peu de potes
jsuites, et, lorsqu'il y en eut, l'examen dclerait, je crois, dans les circonstances o ils
se trouvaient, quelque chose d'exceptionnel ou qui contrebalanait, pour ainsi dire,
leur carrire. Car le gnie attire la renomme, et la renomme individuelle a t
regarde par saint Ignace comme le plus dangereux et le plus aveuglant de tous les
attraits. Le Bienheureux John Berchmans fut batifi pour sa stricte observance de la
rgle; il a dit de lui-mme, et le texte est fameux parmi nous : La vie commune est la
plus grande de mes mortifications. Grgoire XVI (je crois), quand on commena les
premires dmarches, dit aussi de lui : A ce compte, il vous faudra canoniser tout le
Collge Romain. Je cite ces exemples pour prouver que l'ostentation et l'clat ne sont
pas notre fait, que nous cultivons ouvertement la banalit et que nous souhaitons que
la beaut de la fille du roi, de l'me, soit intrieure.

1-16 December 1881 to Richard Watson Dixon

CRWD XXII, 92
Bodleian
Addressed to The Rev.Canon Dixon | Hayton Vicarage | Carlisle. PM PUTNEY S.W. DE 16 81. Written on two
large folded sheets and one small sheet.
Manresa House, Roehampton, S.W. Dec. 1 1881 (the very day 300 years ago of Fr. Campions martyrdom).
My dear friend, -- I am heartily glad you did not make away with, as you say you thought of doing, so warm and
precious a letter as your last. It reached me on the first break or day of repose in our months retreat; I began
answering it on the second, but could not finish; and this is the third and last of them.
When a man has given himself to Gods service, when he has denied himself and followed Christ, he has fitted
himself to receive and does receive ^from God^ a more special guidance, a more particular providence. This
guidance is conveyed partly by the action of other men, as his appointed superiors, and partly by direct lights and
inspirations. If I wait for such guidance, through whatever channel conveyed, about anything, about my poetry for
instance, I do more wisely in every way than if I try to serve my own seeming interests in the matter. If ^Now if^
you value what I write, if I do myself, much more does our Lord. And if he chooses to avail himself of what I
leave at his disposal he can do so with a felicity and with a success which I could never command. And if he does
not, then two things follow; one that the reward I shall nevertheless receive from him will be all the greater; the
other that then I shall know how much a thing contrary to his will and even to my own best interests I should have
done if I had taken things into my ^own^ hands and forced on publication. This is my principle and this in the
main has been my practice: liv^lead^ing the sort of life I do here it is ^seems^ easy, but when one mixes with the
world to live and meets on every side its secret solicitations, to live by faith is harder, is very hard; nevertheless
by Gods help I shall always do so.
Our Society values, as you say, and has contributed to literature, to culture; but only as a means of to an end.
Its history and its experience shews that literature proper, as poetry, has seldom to been found to be to that end a
very serviceable means. We have had for three centuries often the flower of the youth of a country in numbers
enter our body: among these how many poets, how many artists of all sorts, there must have been! But there have
been very few Jesuit poets and, where they have been, I believe it would be found on examination that there was
something exceptional in their circumstances or, so to say, counterbalancing in their career. For genius attracts
fame and individual fame St. Ignatius looked on as the most dangerous of all and dazzling of all attractions. There
was a certain Fr. Beschi1 who in Southern Hindustan composed an epic which has become one of the Tamul
classics and is spoken of with unbounded admiration by those who can read it. But one this was in India, far from
home, and one can well understand that the fame among Hindu pundits need not turn the head of an Italian, In
England we had Fr. Southwell2 a poet, a minor poet but still a poet; but he wrote amidst ^a^ terrible persecution
and died a martyr, with circumstances of horrible barbarity: this is the counterpoise in his career. Then how what
a genius was Campion3 himself! was not he a poet? perhaps a great one, # if he had chosen. His History of
Ireland, written in hiding and hurrying from place to place, Mr. Simpson in his Life4 says, and the samples show
^prove^ it, shews an eloquence like Shaksperes; and in fact Shakspere made use of the book. He had all and more
than all the rhetoric of that golden age and was probably the greatest most vigorous mind and tongue eloquent
tongue in that engaged in theological strife then in England, perhaps in Europe. It seems in time he might have
done anything. But his eloquence died on the air, he had but a year of work, his genius was quenched in his blood
after one years employment in his country. Music is more professional than poetry perhaps and Jesuits have
composed and well, but none has any great fame to speak of. We had one painter who reached excellence, I forget
his name, he was a laybrother; but then he only painted flower pieces.5 You see then what is against me, but
since, as Solomon says, there is a time for everything, there is nothing that does not some day come to be, it may
be that the time will come for my verses. I remember, by the by, once taking up a little book of the life of St.

Stanislaus6 told in or commented on under emblems; it was much in the style of Herbert and his school and about
that date; it was by some Polish Jesuit. I was astonished at their beauty and brilliancy, but the author is quite
obscure. Brilliancy does not suit us. Bourdaloue7 is reckoned a ^our^ great^est^ orator: he is severe in style.
Suarez8 is our for^most^ famous th divine theologian: he is a man of vast volume of mind, but without originality
or brilliancy; he treats everything satisfactorily, but you never remember a phrase of his, the manner is nothing.
Molina9 is the man who made our theology: he was a genius and even in his driest dialectic I have remarked a
certain fervour like a poets. But in the great controversy on the Aids of Grace, the most dangerous crisis, as I
suppose, which our Society ever went through till its suppression, though it was from his book that it had arisen,
he took, I think, little part. The same sort of thing may be noticed in our saints. St. Ignatius10 himself was
certainly, every one who reads his life will allow, one of the most extraordinary men that ever lived; but after the
establishment of the Order he lived in Rome so ordinary, so hidden a life, that af when after his death they began
to move in the process of his canonisation one of the Cardinals, who had known him in his later life and in that
way only, said that he had never remarked anything in him more than in any edifying priest. St. Stanislaus
Kostkas life and vocation is a bright romance -- till he entered the noviceship, where after 10 months he died, and
at the same time its interest ceases. Much the same may be said of St. Aloysius Gonzaga.11 The Blessed John
Berchmans12 was canonised beatified for his most exact observance of the rule; he said of himself and the text is
famous among us, Common life is the greatest of my mortifications; Gregory XVI (I think) when the first steps
were to be taken said of him too: At that rate you will have to canonize all the Roman College. I quote these cases
to shew ^prove^ that shew and brilliancy do not suit us, that we cultivate the commonplace outwardly and wish
the beauty of the kings daughter the soul to be from within.
I could say much more on all this, but it is enough and I must go on to other things.
My Liverpool and Glasgow experience laid upon my mind a conviction, a truly crushing conviction, of the
misery of town life to the poor and more than to the poor, of the misery of the poor in general, and of the
degradation even of our race, of the hollowness of the^is^ nineteenth centurys civilisation: it made even life a
burden to me to have it daily thrust upon me the things I saw.
Earnestly thanking you for your kindness and wishing you all that is best I remain your affectionate friend
Gerard M. Hopkins S.J.
Dec. 16 1881.
1. Costanzo Giuseppe Beschi, whose Tm-bv-ani (an epic poem on the legends of St. Joseph and the Gospel narratives, with an
interpretation by the author, and edited by the Abb Dupuis), was published in 3 vols., 1851-3. Beschi was helped in writing this work
by Supradpa Kavi-ryar.
2. Robert Southwell (?1561-95). Educated at Douai and Rome, he came to England in 1586, becoming domestic chaplain to the countess
of Arundel. He was captured celebrating mass in 1592, repeatedly tortured, imprisoned for three years (during which he wrote most of
his poetry), and executed. The Burning Babe is probably his best known poem today.
3. Edmund Campion (1540-81) was a fellow of St Johns College, Oxford. He was a novice at Brno in Moravia and was ordained in
Prague, where he was sent to teach. In 1580 he entered England secretly on a mission to promote Catholicism in the country. He was
captured, tortured, and executed at Tyburn with Ralph Sherwin and Alexander Briant on 01.12.1581.
4. Edmund Campion. A Biography, by Richard Simpson, 1867 (new ed. 1896); a well-documented study, evidently GMHs source of
information for his projected poem on the martyr.
5. Daniel Zeghers (or Seghers) (1590-1661). A pupil of Jan Breughels, he became the leading Flemish flower painter of his generation.
He joined the Society of Jesus in 1614 and from 1627, when he settled in Antwerp, monastery records show that his fame was such that
a number of the distinguished people of the day visited him.
6. Stanislaus Kostka (1550-68), who became a Jesuit less than a year before he died, has been called a model and mirror of religious
perfection. He was canonized in 1726.
7. Louis Bourdaloue (1632-1704), a French Jesuit who preached in Paris for 34 years and whose command of oratorical technique was
much admired.
8. Francisco Suarez (1548-1617). It was the thought of Aquinas as commented on by Suarez, that GMH would have been taught at St
Marys, Stonyhurst.
9. Luis de Molina (1535-1600), a Spanish theologian, considered one of the pre-eminent moral theologians of the 16th century, whose
reconciliation of the ideas of mans free will and Gods omniscience is still accepted today. The central tenet of his Concordia is that

the efficacy of grace has its ultimate foundation, not within the substance of the Divine gift of grace itself, but in the Divinely
foreknown fact of free human cooperation with this gift. The implications of this teaching were attacked by conservative theologians
and the ensuing controversies De Auxiliis were the subject of a special Congregation in Rome (1598-1607).
10. St. Ignatius Loyola (1491/5-1556) came from an aristocratic family and initially followed a military career. A wound brought him a
prolonged period of inactivity during which he found his religious vocation. At Manresa in 1522-3 he wrote the Spiritual Exercises,
which form an integral part of the life of members of the Society of Jesus, an order which he later founded. He was canonized in 1622.
11. A youth of great promise (1568-9l); canonized in 1726.
12. Remarkable for his fervent piety (1599-1621); canonized in 1888.
13. RWDs History of the Church of England from the Abolition of the Roman Jurisdiction (1878).
14. A History of the Protestant Reformation in England and Ireland; showing how that event impoverished the main body of the people in
those countries; . . . In a series of letters addressed to all sensible and just Englishmen (1824-7). William Cobbett (1763-1835) was
largely self-educated. After serving as a soldier in America, he became a journalist and eventually an MP. His book criticizes Protestant
attitudes to Catholicism and blames the Reformation for causing pauperism.
15. There is an abbreviated edition, revised, with notes and preface by Cardinal F. Gasquet in 1898.
16. The beginning of pauperism is mentioned in Letter IX, and dealt with at length in Letter XVI.
17. GMH christened the song Wayward Water though it is also known by its first line as Sky that rollest ever. Dixons poem had five
stanzas but Hopkins repeated material for a refrain, which he said he was forced to add (letter of 16.09.1881).
18. For Bayly, i.e. Nathaniel Thomas Haynes Bayly (1797-1839), poet, playwright and in his day second only to Thomas Moore as a
songwriter.

Musami, 1958

10

Musami, 1959

168
182

Part Five: Home

196

209

INTRODUTION
'l'rn condemned to death!' Those were pretty frightening words for
a boy to hear spoken in a dramatic whisper in a dark school chapel.

Finally, a rather odd preface to the biography, written by Cardinal

Heenan, then Archbishop of Westminster, seriously ill at ease
with what was happening in Catholic circles in 1973.

The speaker was Father Woodlock, S.J. He was illustrating a retreat

sermon with reminiscences from his days as chaplain during the then
recently concluded first world war. At the time 1 assumed the story
must be true. Since then 1 have walked often in the company of
retreat masters to discover that not ail have the same standards of
objectivity. Sorne regard stories as parables to be told as if they were
historical facts - on the model of the good Samaritan or the
prodigal

son.

To

preachers reject

add

the

verisimilitude

journey

of

to

unlikely

stories

sorne

an unknown man going from

Jerusalem to Jericho. In its place they tell the fictitious tale of

themselves on a journey from Wigan to Blackpool. 1 cannot there
fore say whether Father Woodlock's story was true or false. It was
certainly a good story and here it is in more or less his own words.
A sixteen-year old boy ran away from his Jesuit boarding school
- where 1 happened to be teaching- to join the army. He lied
about his age- as many patriotic young men did in 1915. It was
not unknown for recruiting sergeants to tell schoolboys of sixteen
who gave their true age 'Come back tomorrow, sonny, when you
are eighteen and old enough to join the army'.
This boy was weil built and very intelligent. He was picked
out, rapidly trained and given a commission. He was barely
seventeen when he found P,imself in France, an officer in charge
of a platoon. He was shocked by the casualties, the noise, the
stench and even by the language of his men. He soon became
dispirited and demoralised. So one day he attempted to give
himself a wound which would not be dangerous but serious
enough to take him back to Blighty. This was the soldiers' word
for England, Home and Beauty. Unfortunately a Colonel was
watching the boy's performance through field glasses. What he
saw was pathetic. The poor boy had so lost his nerve that he
hadn't the guts even to wound himself. He merely threw himself
on the ground pretending to be a casualty. He deserted the men
he was supposed to lead in the attack on the enemy trenches.
A subsequent court martial sentenced him to death. 1 was
allowed to stay with him the whole night before his execution. It
vi

vii

was the longest night of my life. We talked for hours of the old
days at school. I promised to write to his parents and tell them
that he had served Mass on the day he died and that he had met
his death bravely. This comforted him greatly and, to my surprise
and relief, he soon fell asleep as if he hadn't a care in the world.
As the hour approached when he must face the firing squad it
was I who felt a coward. I kept postponing the moment when I
must wake him up. At last I could put if off no longer. Feeling
like a murderer I shook him gently and he woke up. When he saw
me he thought for a moment that he was back at school. He
smiled and greeted me. Then, suddenly, he remembered. An
agonised look came over his face. He whispered 'l'rn condemned
to death!'
The point of the story was, of course, that we are all condemned

founder pictured his order as a company of soldiers of Christ. For a

soldier discipline is all important. Father Devlin died just before
priests and religious began to become introspective. He had never

considered what

with

clergy was later to become the obsessive

question of his purpose and identity as a priest.

He was also

mercifully spared the current quest for maturity. His maturity had
been gained on the hard way of the Cross. He knew his identity to
be that of an alter Christus. However disappointed he had been when
his superiors refused to give him the academie opportunities for
which he was so eminently suited he did not rebel. He continued to
act according to the spirit of his vow of obedience. Oxford or Africa,

an army

chaplaincy

or

the

schoolroom - he cheerfully went

to death although, unlike this boy, we know neither the day nor the

wherever obedience might direct him. His friends fretted because he

hour. I was reminded of all this the first time I saw Christopher

was not given sufficient scope to develop his dazzling gifts as a

Devlin after his unsuccessful operation for cancer. He was much too

writer. Christopher Devlin did not fret. He found peace of soul in

intelligent to be deceived by compassionate doctors and nurses. He

obeying orders.

knew very well that he was condemned to death and that the call
would come within a few weeks or months. Unlike the boy, how

ever, he had no agonised look on his face. He was serene. He was

determined to use whatever time might be left to him ad majorem

Dei gloriam. The Jesuit motto was his rule of life. He, of course,
would not have said so. He was reserved and sensitive. He wanted to
cause the !east possible trouble to his family and friends. He also
hoped to keep faith with his publisher.
I asked him if there was anything I might provide to comfort him
in his painful illness. He smiled as he made his request. He told me
that his breviary contained the new psalter with its almost clinical
translation of the Latin psalms. He longed for the familiar version in
the old psalter which though sometimes meaningles was full of
rhythm. It would be unfair, he felt, to ask his superiors to huy him
new breviaries since he had so little time left to use them. If I cared
to give him sorne discarded breviaries of mine he would die happy.
That seems to be a trivial incident but it gives insight into his
character. He was a true poet. He could bear bodily pain bravely but
aesthetic affront he could not withstand. He was also a man of
prayer.

In September 1969, Father Arrupe, General of the Jesuits, told

all members of the Society of Jesus what was expected of them
during

these

days of the Church's renewal. Having visited the

communities of his order throughout the world he gave an account

of what he had seen. Tho se who know only the Jesuits of fiction
might imagine that the Father General would have listed the number
of J esuits in key positions directing public opinion or those in the
highest scholastic posts. Instead he spoke of 'the majority of Jesuits
who do silent but valuable work, without attracting the notice of the
sensation-seeking public'.
Christopher Devlin was one of their number. He is remembered
by historians and literati, by schoolboys and soldiers, by poor
Africans, by priests and nuns who sought his spiritual guidance. To
the sensation-seeking public he was unknown.

often look in vain for the story of the spirit in a modern idiom.

John Cardinal Heenan

December 1969

Archbishop of Westminster

Lesser men might have asked for sorne gift to assuage

physical discomfort. Christopher sought help to remove distraction

from his daily prayers. He was also a typical Jesuit - if such a being
can truly be said to exist. I mean that he loved the Society and in a
spirit of poverty wanted to make no extravagant demands upon its
charity.
What

is

the most notable characteristic of the Sons of St.

Ignatius? I would say it is their discipline. The order was originally

called not the Society but the Company of Jesus. Their soldier
viii

I hope that this

splendid account of his life will make him known to the many who

ix