Chapter 1
1 Up to his twenty-sixth year he was a man given over to the vanities of the world, and took a special delight in the exercise of arms, with a great and vain desire of winning glory. He was in a fortress{6} which the French were attacking, and although the others were of the opinion that they should surrender on terms of having their lives spared, as they clearly saw there was no possibility of a defense, he gave so many reasons to the governor that he persuaded him to carry on the defense against the judgment of the officers, who found some strength in his spirit and courage. On the day on which they expected the attack to take place, he made his confession to one of his companions in arms. After the assault had been going on for some time, a cannon ball struck him in the leg, crushing its bones, and because it passed between his legs it also seriously wounded the other.
2 With his fall, the others in the fortress surrendered to the French, who took possession, and treated the wounded man with great kindliness and courtesy. After twelve or fifteen days in Pamplona they bore him in a litter to his own country. Here he found himself in a very serious condition. The doctors and surgeons whom he had called from all parts were of the opinion that the leg should be operated on again and the bones reset, either because they had been poorly set in the first place, or because the jogging of the journey had displaced them so that they would not heal. Again he went through this butchery, in which as in all the others that he had suffered he uttered no word, nor gave any sign of pain other than clenching his fists.
3 His condition grew worse. Besides being unable to eat he showed other symptoms which are usually a sign of approaching death. The feast of St. John drew near, and as the doctors had very little hope of his recovery, they advised him to make his confession. He received the last sacraments on the eve of the feast of Sts. Peter and Paul, and the doctors told him that if he showed no improvement by midnight, he could consider himself as good as dead. The patient had some devotion to St. Peter, and so our Lord wished that his improvement should begin that very midnight. So rapid was his recovery that within a few days he was thought to be out of danger of death.
4 When the bones knit, one below the knee remained astride another, which caused a shortening of the leg. The bones so raised caused a protuberance that was not pleasant to the sight. The sick man was not able to put up with this, because he had made up his mind to seek his fortune in the world. He thought the protuberance was going to be unsightly and asked the surgeons whether it could not be cut away. They told him that it could be cut away, but that the pain would be greater than all he had already suffered, because it was now healed and it would take some time to cut it off. He determined, nevertheless, to undergo this martyrdom to gratify his own inclinations. His elder brother was quite alarmed and declared that he would not have the courage to undergo such pain. But the wounded man put up with it with his usual patience.
5 After the superfluous flesh and the bone were cut away, means were employed for preventing the one leg from remaining shorter than the other. Many ointments were applied and devices employed for keeping the leg continually stretched which caused him many days of martyrdom. But it was our Lord Who restored his health. In everything else he was quite well, but he was not able to stand upon that leg, and so had to remain in bed. He had been much given to reading worldly books of fiction and knight errantry, and feeling well enough to read he asked for some of these books to help while away the time. In that house, however, they could find none of those he was accustomed to read, and so they gave him a Life of Christ and a book of the Lives of the Saints in Spanish.
6 By the frequent reading of these books he conceived some affection for what he found there narrated. Pausing in his reading, he gave himself up to thinking over what he had read. At other times he dwelt on the things of the world which formerly had occupied his thoughts. Of the many vain things that presented themselves to him, one took such possession of his heart that without realizing it he could spend two, three, or even four hours on end thinking of it, fancying what he would have to do in the service of a certain lady, of the means he would take to reach the country where she was living, of the verses, the promises he would make her, the deeds of gallantry he would do in her service. He was so enamored with all this that he did not see how impossible it would all be, because the lady was of no ordinary rank; neither countess, nor duchess, but of a nobility much higher than any of these.{7}
7 Nevertheless, our Lord came to his assistance, for He saw to it that these thoughts were succeeded by others which sprang from the things he was reading. In reading the Life of our Lord and the Lives of the Saints, he paused to think and reason with himself. “Suppose that I should do what St. Francis did, what St. Dominic did?” He thus let his thoughts run over many things that seemed good to him, always putting before himself things that were difficult and important which seemed to him easy to accomplish when he proposed them. But all his thought was to tell himself, “St. Dominic did this, therefore, I must do it. St. Francis did this; therefore, I must do it.” These thoughts also lasted a good while. And then other things taking their place, the worldly thoughts above mentioned came upon him and remained a long time with him. This succession of diverse thoughts was of long duration, and they were either of worldly achievements which he desired to accomplish, or those of God which took hold of his imagination to such an extent, that worn out with the struggle, he turned them all aside and gave his attention to other things.
8 There was, however, this difference. When he was thinking of the things of the world he was filled with delight, but when afterwards he dismissed them from weariness, he was dry and dissatisfied. And when he thought of going barefoot to Jerusalem and of eating nothing but herbs and performing the other rigors he saw that the saints had performed, he was consoled, not only when he entertained these thoughts, but even after dismissing them he remained cheerful and satisfied. But he paid no attention to this, nor did he stop to weigh the difference until one day his eyes were opened a little and he began to wonder at the difference and to reflect on it, learning from experience that one kind of thoughts left him sad and the other cheerful. Thus, step by step, he came to recognize the difference between the two spirits that moved him, the one being from the evil spirit, the other from God.
9 He acquired no little light from this reading and began to think more seriously of his past life and the great need he had of doing penance for it. It was during this reading that these desires of imitating the saints came to him, but with no further thought of circumstances than of promising to do with God’s grace what they had done. What he desired most of all to do, as soon as he was restored to health, was to go to Jerusalem, as above stated, undertaking all the disciplines and abstinences which a generous soul on fire with the love of God is wont to desire.
10 The thoughts of the past were soon forgotten in the presence of these holy desires, which were confirmed by the following vision. One night, as he lay awake, he saw clearly the likeness of our Lady with the holy Child Jesus, at the sight of which he received most abundant consolation for a considerable interval of time. He felt so great a disgust with his past life, especially with its offenses of the flesh, that he thought all such images which had formerly occupied his mind were wiped out. And from that hour until August of 1553, when this is being written, he never again consented to the least suggestion of the flesh. This effect would seem to indicate that the vision was from God, although he never ventured to affirm it positively, or claim that it was anything more than he had said it was. But his brother and other members of the family easily recognized the change that had taken place in the interior of his soul from what they saw in his outward manner.
11 Without a care in the world he went on with his reading and his good resolutions. All the time he spent with the members of the household he devoted to the things of God, and in this way brought profit to their souls. He took great delight in the books he was reading, and the thought came to him to select some short but important passages from the Life of Christ and the Lives of the Saints. And so he began to write very carefully in a book, as he had already begun to move a little about the house. The words of Christ he wrote in red ink and those of our Lady in blue, on polished and lined paper in a good hand, for he was an excellent penman. Part of his time he spent in writing, part in prayer. It was his greatest consolation to gaze upon the heavens and the stars, which he often did, and for long stretches at a time, because when doing so he felt within himself a powerful urge to be serving our Lord. He gave much time to thinking about his resolve, desiring to be entirely well so that he could begin his journey.
12 As he was going over in his mind what he should do on his return from Jerusalem, so as to live in perpetual penance, the thought occurred to him of joining the Carthusians of Seville. He could there conceal his identity so as to be held in less esteem, and live there on a strictly vegetable diet. But as the thought returned of a life of penance which he wanted to lead by going about the world, the desire of the Carthusian life grew cool, since he felt that there he would not be able to indulge the hatred he had conceived against himself. And yet, he instructed a servant of the house who was going to Burgos to bring back information about the Carthusian Rule,{8} and the information brought to him seemed good. But for the reason given above, and because his attention was entirely occupied with the journey he was thinking of making at once, he gave up thinking about the Carthusians as it was a matter that could await his return. Indeed, feeling that he was pretty well restored, he thought it was time to be up and going and told his brother so. “You know, my lord, the Duke of Nájera is aware that I have recovered. It will be good for me to go to Navarette.” The Duke was there at the time. His brother led him from one room to another, and with a great show of affection, begged him not to make a fool of himself. He wanted him to see what hopes the people placed in him and what influence he might have, along with other like suggestions, all with the intention of turning him from the good desire he had conceived. But, without departing from the truth, for he was very scrupulous about that, he reassured him in a way that allowed him to slip away from his brother.{9}
Chapter 2
13 Thus, as the pilgrim mounted his mule, another{10} of his brothers wished to accompany him as far as Oñate. Him he persuaded on the way to make a vigil in the chapel of our Lady of Aranzazu.{11} During the night he prayed here for fresh strength on his journey. He left his brother in Oñate in the home of a sister{12} whom he was going to visit, while he himself went on to Navarette. He thought it would be good to collect a few ducats which were owed him in the house of the Duke, and so wrote a note to the treasurer. The treasurer answered that he had no money on hand, but when the Duke heard of it, he said that he might lack for everything else, but not for Loyola. The Duke wished to place him in charge of one of his properties, should he wish to accept it, in recognition of the reputation he had earned in the past. He got his money and left word for it to be distributed to certain persons to whom he felt some obligation, and applied part of it to a statue of our Lady which was poorly attired and which he wanted to see very well set up and adorned. Then, taking leave of the two servants who had accompanied him, he mounted his mule and left Navarette for Montserrat.
14 An experience befell him on the way which it would be good to recount. It will help to an understanding of how our Lord dealt with this soul who, although still blind, had a great desire to serve Him to the best of his knowledge, and was set on performing great penances, not so much with an idea of satisfying for his sins, as to placate and please God. Thus, when he remembered to do some penance which the saints had performed, he resolved to do the same and even more. All his consolation was in these thoughts. He never took a spiritual view of anything, nor even knew the meaning of humility, or charity, or patience, or discretion as a rule and measure of these virtues. His whole purpose was to perform these great, external works, for so had acted the saints for God’s glory, without thought of any more particular circumstance.
15 Well then, as he went on his way, he came upon a Moor riding a mule. They both fell to talking, and the conversation turned on our Lady. The Moor admitted that the Virgin had conceived without man’s aid, but could not believe that she remained a virgin after once having given birth, and for this opinion submitted the natural reasons which occurred to him. For all the arguments which the pilgrim gave against this opinion, he could not refute it. The Moor then took the lead with such haste that he was soon lost to view, and left the pilgrim with his own thoughts of what had taken place. These gave rise to emotions that brought on a feeling of discontent in his soul, as he thought that he had failed in his duty. This in turn led to indignation against the Moor, as he thought that he had done very ill to allow a Moor to say such things against our Lady, and that he was obliged to defend her honor. Hence a desire arose to go in search of the Moor and give him a taste of his dagger for what he had said. This battle of desires lasted for some time with the pilgrim quite doubtful at the end as to what he ought to do. The Moor, who had gone on ahead, had said that he was going to a place which was on the same highway, a little further on, but a little to the side of the highway. The royal highway, however, did not pass through the place.
16 Tired out from this examination as to what it would be good for him to do, and not being able to come to any clear decision, he thought of letting the mule decide, and gave her a free rein up to the spot where the road divided. If the mule took the road that led to the village he would search out the Moor and give him a taste of his dagger. If she did not take the village road, but continued on the royal highway, he would leave him in peace. This he did. But it was our Lord’s will that, although the village was only thirty or forty steps away, and the road to it broad and even, the mule took the royal highway and passed by the village road.
Before reaching Montserrat he arrived at a large town where he bought the clothing he had made up his mind to wear when he went to Jerusalem. It was some sacking of a very loose weave and a rough prickly surface, and he at once gave orders for a long garment reaching to his feet to be made of it. He bought a pilgrim’s staff and a small gourd and attached it all to the mule’s saddle.
17 He continued his way to Montserrat, thinking as usual of the great deeds he was going to do for the love of God. As his mind was filled with the adventures of Amadis of Gaul and such books, thoughts corresponding to these adventures came to his mind. He determined, therefore, on a watch of arms throughout a whole night, without ever sitting or lying down, but standing a while and then kneeling, before the altar of our Lady of Montserrat, where he had made up his mind to leave his fine attire and to clothe himself with the armor of Christ. Leaving, then, this place, he continued, as was his wont, thinking about his resolutions, and when he arrived at Montserrat, after praying for a while and making an engagement with his confessor,{13} he made a general confession in writing which lasted three days. He arranged with the confessor to have the mule taken away, and his sword and dagger hung in the church at the altar of our Lady. This man was the first to whom he had made known his purpose, because up to then he had not revealed it to any confessor.
18 On the eve, then, of our Lady’s Annunciation, March 24th, at night, in the year 1522, he went as secretly as possible to a poor man, and removing his fine clothes gave them to him, put on his desired attire, and went to kneel before our Lady’s altar. Alternating between kneeling and standing, with his pilgrim’s staff in his hand, he ...