DEATH OF FATHER TOM BURKE.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XI, Issue 21, 14 September 1883, Page 19

DEATH OF FATHER TOM BURKE.

(Dublin Freeman, July 7.) THE Very Rev. Father Thomas N. Burke, O. P, died at Tallaght on Monday morning at three o'clock. No language can express the deep and bitter gxief which will flow from every Irish heart at the ba re announcement.. A disease of long duration and terrible pain has at length carried away its victim, and a life which for. four years past has been a prolonged torture, has, for the sufferer, happily terminated in death. Happily, for the deceased, yes ; but for the Church in which he was revered, for the Order to whose lustre he had lent a new brightness, for every charity which required a heart to sympathise with it and a voice to plead its cause, unhappily, a thousandfold unhappily. To the tens of thousands of his portraits which an attached people had hung up in theii homes myriads of eyes will turn tearfully to-day, and the orisons of afflicted love will fervently plead to Heaven for his eternal reward. Most people are aware that the " great Dominican," as Father Barke had come to be -called, was born in the City of th-3 Tribes. He often made mention of the fact, chiefly to refer to his dotingly affectionate peasant mother to whom he was passionately attached. It was on the 10th of September, 1830, he was born, so that the deceased had but reached his 53rd year. Comparatively brief as it was, there are few lives can show a more fruitful record or one more unselfishly and unstintingly ' devoted to the highest and noblest of all causes. It is full of earnest and constant work, too prolific of great and enduring results to be treated in a brief obituary notice like the present in any but a scant and wholly imperfect manner. All that we can hope to do now is to note consecutively the mere outlines of his years. Young Burke, who developed a lively precocity when a mere child, was sent at an ■early age to a local school conducted by Dr. O'Toole. Here he showed himself an apt and retentive student, scrupulously attentive to all his duties, but with a wealth of irrepressible and •even boisterous mirth that made the wiseacres shake their sapient heads and mumble that the contemplated vocation of the ' youth was not what nature had intended him for. Those who were fitted to judge, and who knew the extraordinary capabilities and gifts of the boy, looked forward with delightful anticipation to the ■career he had before him, and to the ornament which the Church was about to receive. When 17 years of age — that is in the great famine year — he had advanced so far as to be able to proceed to Borne as a postulant for the Order of Preachers, and on theStb of January, 1849, he made his solemn profession at the Convent of Perugia. For three years he diligently pursued his theological and pbilosophical studies at the College of Minerva in Rome, when he was sent by the General of the Order to Woodchester, in England,' to org-anise the novitiate for the English province. His ordination took place at Clifton a year after on the Holy Saturday of 18-">3, the Most Rev. Dr. Burgees then Bishop of that See, officiating. Father Burke, whose rhetorical ability had already attracted some attention, continued at WoodChester until 1855, when he was summoned to Tallaght to superintend the novitiate that had been opened there that year. He laboured with a zeal and devotion which had become characteristic of the young Irish Dominican ; and not less by reason of the lofty intellect which commanded admiiation than by the softness and sweetness of his nature which won it, he enjoyed the respect aud affection of all with whom he came in contact. He left Tallaght in 1867 for Borne, where he had been appointed Prior o£ the Monastery of St. Clement's and remaining there for two years returned to Dublin to be attached to the Church of St. Saviour, 1 ; Dominick street. Full scope was here afforded him for the use of that rich and fluent eloquence of which he was a master, and which though not yet matured to its subsequent perfection, soon became spoken of in the city. If we mistake not, it was at Sandymount that the" orator first drew to himself the general notice of the Irish public — he had already in Rome and in England established a local fame. The occasion was the unveiling -of a stained-glass window in the Catholic church at Sandymount. Father Burke preached the sermon, and the force of his eloquence, the richness of his imagery, the charming freshness of his allusions in which he illustrated the close relation of art to the genius of the Catholic faith, dazzled while it amazed the congregation. The substance of the sermon was given to the country in an unusually extended report in .these columns : it at once created a marked effect, and soon Father Burkes sermons became the favoured reading of the people. 1872, when his reputation was great and far-reaching, he ;*Ta sent as Visitator-General to the Dominicans of the United ■States. By this visit he acquired a world-wide celebrity. His fame as a preacher had preceded him, and his transatlantic countrymen ■evinced a very anxious desire to hear him. He was speedily in the pulpit and on the platform, and after his first couple of addresses all America rang with his praises. The largest halls in the chief cities ■of the States afforded accommodation only to a small section of the hundreds of thousands that crowded to listen to him. No Irish priest, with perhaps the single exception of Father Mathew, was ever before or since brought face to face with such teeming multitudes. One thing only was wanting to complete the marvellous enthusiasm of this tour, and Mr. James Anthony Fronde, the most brilliant and most inaccurate historian of this or any other age, supplied it. That gentleman was handling the facts of Irish history for the benefit of intelligent Americans in a manner which no one except the author of '• The English in Ireland " would have the courage to present. They attracted some interest in America, which did not escape Father Burke ; and recognibing the injury that they were calculated to effect upon the history of his country and his countrymen, be boldly undertook their defence without a moment's preparation. How admirably he succeeded is permanently recorded in his popular " Refutation of Froude." These American addresses were reproduced in the newspapers at home, and they were read by the nation at large with a keen and intense interest. Tbey showed that Father Burke was as earnest a JNauonalist as he was a sound and

fervent son of the Church — a combination which is invariably found and some of them breathed in a remarkable manner the depths of a true and ardent Celtic soul. A passage from one of them, on " The Future of the Irish Race at Home and Abroad," may be quoted here for its earnest and, as it now reads, pathetic patriotism. The address was delivered in the Music Hall, Boston, on September 29th, 1872, for the benefit of the Convent Schools, Cambridgeport. Having Bpoken of the possible influence of the Irish race in America, he concluded a powerful oration as follows :— " Oh 1 how grand it is, as I see it to-day, this future of my race I Eight millions of people in America of Irish birth and eighteen millions of Irish blood 1 In thirty years there must be fifty millions born in this great country, spreading itself out in all things, rich beyond all other nations in minerals, rivers, harbours. Fifty millions of Irishmen here will overshade all the nations of the earth. Think of the magnificent element of fifty millions of Irishmen filling the public offices and guiding the destinies of this country and bearing the distinctive marks of Irish character, an ornament and a pride to the land that adopted them, by their -Catholic temperance and purity. A power in this land will they be assuredly to guide and influence her actions, to draw the sword in the moment of danger, and to strike such blows in the cause of God and truth as have never yet rung on the shield of injustice ; a power in Ireland before which the generous heart of America will be sure to bow in homage ; a power that will not prevent you from being the best American citizens, while you will not lose the vision of Ireland and of debt you owe her. Then, and not till then, every enemy of Ireland will stand paralysed to injure her, because the great phantom of Ireland in America will cause; them to recoil, and force them to respect the dear, old, venerated and beloved island." On his return from America, Father Butko received a great ovation in the city of his birth, the late "John of Taam" presiding at a banquet which was given in honour of the preacher. Archbishop Mac Hale then described him as one of the most extraordinary men of the nineteenth century, and proudly mentioned as a proof of the work he had done in the far West, that the various American charities for which the orator had spoken had obtained in the aggregate the enormous sum of one hundred thousand pounds. He returned to Tallaght to watch over the preparation for the pulpit of the young Dominicans, but for a number of years his entire time was absorbed in preaching charity sermons throughout the United kingdom. No consecration ceremony, no religious occasion which required a sermon to be preached, no retreat was considered complete without the attendance of Father Burke. So constant a tax upon the mental and physical energies was certain to have but one effect, and soon the powerful physique of the popular Dominican began to fail. About four years ago the first symptoms of a painful and, as the sad seqnel has proved fatal, malady manifested themselves. He had to suspend all active work for a considerable time, the result of which was that he rallied slightly. He then occasionally appeared in the pulpit, with the traces of malignant illness upon him, but with all the fire and power of his eloquence unimpaired. Last year he got through a fair amount of work, working always with a will, although he knew the consequence of each effort was some weeks of torture for himself. For a time hop s were entertained that his physicians had mastered the disease, bub in the Lent of the present it reappeared with, if possible, increased virulence. Best and complete change of air were recommended, and, accompanied by the Very Rev. J, T. Towers, Provincial of the Order, Father Barke paid a visit to Borne. He was received with the greatest warmth and cordiality by the authorities of the Church and of his own Order, and bad the gratifying privilege of a long private interview with the Holy Father. Eis Holiness greeted him most affectionately, and addressing him as " one of the Church's greatest preachers," referred with extreme satisfaction to the work the illustrious Irishman had done, and, blessiug him prayed that he had yet many years of health and strength to continue his estimable labours. The change had a very beneficial effect, and after some weeks in the Eternal City he returned, by easy stages, with Father Towers. About a fortnight after his arrival in Dublin he proceeded to London to preach at the opening of a new Dominican Church at Haverstock Hill, and also on Friday and Sunday following. His weak condition was not equal to this renewal of work, and he became alarmingly unwell. He was confined to bed for more than a week, and when able to be removed he returned to Dublin about a fortnight ago. He drove to bis residence at Tallagbt, and taking to his bed never, again left it but once. This once indicates with singular and pathetic force his overflowing sympathy with suffering, his constant willingness to plead for a charitable object and his almost unparalleled, absolutely heroic selftacrifice. He had consented to preach in aid of the fund for the starving children of Donegal, and the day being fixed for the sermon, last Sunday week, he rose from his bed of agonising pain, and appeared in the pulpit at St. Xavier's Church, Gardiner street. To those who were familiar with the suffering he had just undergone his splendid sermon was simply phenomenal, while to the general body of his congregation it was a characteristically brilliant effort, fie returned to Tallaght, and from that time forward he was constantly attended by Drs. Porter, Cruise and Lawlor. The gifted priest lay upon his bed, suffering the intensest agony, with a calm and uncomplaining fortitude that astonished while it deeply affected his brethren. To the last he retained full possession of all his faculties, his mind never for a moment wandering, but constantly intent upon earnest unremitting prayer. When addressing those around him he spoke with as much of the old cheerfulness as his martyr-spirit could force. On Sunday night he endured the most excessive and excruciating pain, which, having continued for many hours, ceased for a few minutes before three o'clock yesterday morning. He still availed of the interval to plead for the intercession of his Blessed Mother, and after a short time, surrounded by the deeply affected members of the community, and with a prayer passing from his lips, the great and good father Tom Barke closed his eyes in death, with the sweet and peaceful repose of a tired child sinking to sleep. The admirable patience in the midst of physical torture that constantly distinguished Father Burke was, perhaps, the especial

feature in the last few days of his illness. Unremitting prayer was his great solace, and no paroxysms of pain were able to draw a word of complaint from his lips. During the last and most bitter agqny his sweet resignation was, as those of his community proclaim, a source to them of the highest edification. To the very last moment, and until his pulse ceased to beat, he retained full consciousness, the last word falling from his lips being an invocation to Our Blessed Lady, " Help of Christians." Needless to add that the illustrious son of the Church passed away fortified by her holy rites. On Sunday morning he received the Viaticum in the presence of an entire community, and subsequently with touching humility begged pardon from his brethren for any offence he had given. " And," added the witness, to whom we are indebted for these details, " I need hardly say that he was never known to give cause of offence to any. The world may speak of the great scholar, the splendid oratsr, but those •nly in daily and hourly contact with him can speak of his unvarying sweetness of disposition, his tender pity, his complete self-abne-gation, and, over and above all, his marvellous modesty. The one thing that could bring a cloud to his face was to single him out in any way for distinction. Truly, he was to us all a splendid example of humility." In accordance with the rules of his Order immediately after his decease the Office of the Dead was commenced, and will be unremittingly chanted until the body is taken to its last restingplace. Last evening, despite the fact that Tallaght is some distance from the city, very many persons made the journey to see the remains of the revered deceased. The body, in the white robes of the Dominican Order, was placed in the centre of the. small temporary tapel, upon a plain, black, elevated bier. Beyond the black drapery the bier itself, no display of funereal ornamentation was made. On either side of the bier, leaving round it sufficient room for the circulation of the many who came to take a final, in most cases a tearful, look at the features so well known throughout his native country, were/anged eight of the Dominican Fathers, slowly chanting the impressive Office of the Dead. All around was of the plainest and, one might say, poorest description. To again quote our informant— " He left not one penny-piece behind him, for, indeed, ha could have nothing that was not in accordance with his beautiful vow of poverty."