Any one that will glance over this year of his life, and see him perpetually moving from place to place, will certainly think he had little time to himself. It was about this time that he made the resolution of never being a moment idle, a resolve he carried out to the last. During this year and the preceding he was occupied in translating into English Da Bergamo's _Pensieri ed Affetti_. The greater part of this book, which was published by Richardson, under the name of _Thoughts and Affections on the Passion_, was translated by Father Ignatius, on railway stations, while waiting for trains, in every place, before or after dinner, in intervals between confessions, in all kinds of out-of-the way places; and so careful was he to fill up every moment of time that we see noted in his journal his having done some of Da Bergamo in the fore cabin of the steamer that took him {399} from Holyhead to Kingstown. He wrote it mostly in pencilling, on the backs of envelopes, scraps of paper of all sizes, shapes, and quality; so that it was nearly as difficult to put those sibylline leaves in order and copy from them as it was to translate, if not more so. Besides this he wrote a number of letters; and his letters were no small notes with broken sentences, but long lectures on difficulties of conscience, written with a care and consideration that is perfectly surprising when one reflects upon his opportunities. He used to say that no one should ever excuse his not answering a letter for want of time: "If the letter is worth answering we ought to get time for it, for it becomes a kind of duty." He certainly had no time to spare or throw away, but he had always enough for any purpose in which charity or obedience could claim him. His days were indeed full days, and he scarcely ever went to bed until he had shaken himself out of nodding asleep over his table three or four times. No one ever heard him say that he was tired and required rest; rest he never had, except on his hard bed or in his quiet grave. If any man ever ate his bread in the sweat of his brow, it was Father Ignatius of St. Paul, the ever-toiling Passionist. {400} CHAPTER VIII. A New Form of "The Crusade."