GRAPHIC SKETCH OF AN IRISH PRELATE.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume V, Issue 238, 23 November 1877, Page 15

GRAPHIC SKETCH OF AN IRISH PRELATE.

The Tf inter Exam'uwr of Aug. 18 says : — After the Gospel the Most Rev. Dr. Croke, the Archbishop of Cashel, appeared on tlie altar in a purple soutane and lace and lawn episcopal surplice. His archiepiscopal cross glittered upon his breast, and as he stood he loaned back* wards against the epistle side of the altar. Dr. Croke is a. tall, wellknit man, still in the prime of life and strength. His dark hair clusters with almost youthful crispness around his forehead and adown his neck. The poet might sing of him as of the Scottish king — On bis bold visage middle ago Bits slightly pressed its signet sage, His Irish gray eye conceals not the intellectual fire that glows within ; his nervous hand seems, when he gesticulates, which he does with a frequency that is almost foreign, like that of one who might wield- a falchion as fitly as a crozier, He is, in fine, the beau-ideal of a prelate not afraid to boast that he owes his blood to gallant Tipperary. Thomas W. Croke is a young Archbishop, but a man of vast experience as well as natural vigour, ability, and studiousness. While yet priest in the fine Diocesan College of Fermoy, which owes so much to the fostering care of the lata lit. Key. Dr. Keane, the sainted Bishop of Cloyne, he won golden opinions from those placed above him as well as from those who were intrusted to his care. When selected by Cardinal Cullen to fill the Bishopric of Auckland in distant New Zealand, Father Croke accepted tlie onerous charge with the spirit of a Christian missionary. He has travelled in America,_wlu?re any one who knows him will not be surprised to hear him tell of the cordial reception which he met with, as well as on the European Continent and in the distant sea-girt lands of wide-spread Occanica. A man of splendid talents, of untiring energy and iudustry, of great attainments, of winning manners, and tine presence, is it any wonder that, placed on the archiepiscopal throne of Cashel of the Kings, he should soon make himself, both at home and abroad, one of the most popular and powerf nl of Irish prelates ? His tongue is, of a verity, touched with the divine fire of oratory. With one spring he vaulted into the highest rank of preachers, and those who heard His Grace on the memorable occasion of the O'Connell Centenary celebration in the Pro-Cathedral, Marlborough Street, or recently in St Patrick's, Belfast, will understand the feelings of the English correspondent of the Dally Trlegrajth accustomed to the read discourses of the Protestant pulpits, who could do nothing but wonder at the flow and the polish, the learning and the rhetoric of the Archbishop of Muiistcr. The sermon of Sunday can only be described as a tornado of eloquence, sweeping all before it, giving no time to question or to weigh, demanding unconditional surrender, and making the hesitating reasoner rejoice in his captivity and subjection. This power is all the more astonishing when we come to criticise the orator analytically. It may not be the proper disposition with which to enter a church, but it would be affectation to disguise the fact that interest in and curiosity regarding the archie* piscopal orator largely leavened the motives of many in the church on Sunday. If they did not go to criticise, at least being there, they were prepared to canvass and compare tho preacher's merits. In the beginning it was disappointment. The Archbishop labours under a similar disadvantage to that with which, like his Grace, the great lay orator Shiel contended, and successfully. He has not a good voice. It is not round and full-toned. It is sharp and thin. There is none of that sonorousness to which the Galway Dominican has attuned us. His Grace's accent has rather the shrillness of West Kerry. But hear on 1 Your sympathy soon becomes awakened. The orator is stealing on your heart — be is preparing for the grand rush with which he will storm your stronghold in a twinkling, and sure as ever issues forth that whirlwind of sparkling sentences, in which ally the music of the polished period, the riches of the mind full of scriptural and historical illustration, the keenness of the polished logician, the word-paint-ing of the imagination of the South, and all the dulcet aptness of the honied Southern tongue, down you go before the never faltering, never hesitating, overwhelming avalanche, and, carried away, you are soon yourself part and parcel of. the enthusiasm which has been gathering from all sides and every quarter in the onward and triumphant course of the enchanting conqueror. Even in the unstudied gesture there is the grace begotten of earnestness which art cannot equal, and as we look upon this young Archbishop, standing on that altar step in Belfast, and inspiring the vast congregation before him with his own fervour, we cannot help but think — what could not that man do with a populace, whither could he not lead the ardent Celt, and how could he not sway the passions of a multitude, now touching the finest cords and anon sweeping his hand across the human heart-strings, awaking them to the boldest measure that harpist ever struck or poet sung.